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'►IT TO 27 VANOeWAUf^ &T 

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ed 1887 by George Munro— Entered at the Post Office at New York at second class rates— lan ir., i; 



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LOCKSLEY HALL 



SIXTY YEARS AFTER 



ETC 



BY 



ALFRED 
LORD TENNYSON 



/ 



P.L. D.C.L. 




FEB 7 1887y/i 



NEW YORK: 
GEORGE MUlN^RO, PUBLISHER 

17 TO 27 Vandewatkr Street. 



N-o 



n 



^1 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

LOCKSLEY HALL SIXTY YEARS AFTER 9 

THE FLEET 33 

OPENING OF THE INDIAN AND COLONIAL EXHIBITION BY 

THE QUEEN 35 

THE PROMISE OF MAY 41 



10 LOCKvSLEY HALL 



Curse himl'^ curse your fellow-victim? call him dotard 
in your rage? 

Eyes that lured a doting boyhood well might fool a do- 
tard's age. 



Jilted for a wealthier! wealthier? yet perhaps she was 

not wise; 
I remember how you kissed the miniature Avith those 

sweet eyes. 

In the hall there hangs a painting — Amy's arms about 

my neck — 
Happy children in a sunbeam sitting on the ribs of 

wreck. 

In my life there was a picture, she that clasp'd my neck 

had flown; 
I was left within the shadow sitting on the wreck 

alone. 

Yours has been a slighter ailment, will you sicken for her 

sake? 
You, not you! your modern amourist is of easier, eartli- 

lier make. 

Amy loved me. Amy fail'd me. Amy was a timid 

child; 

But your Judith — but your worldling — she had never 

driven me wild. 



SIXTY YEAKS AFTEK. 11 

She that holds the diamond necklace dearer than the 

golden ring, 
She that finds a winter sunset fairer than a morn of 

Spring. 

She that in her heart is brooding on his briefer lease of 
life. 

While she vows '^ till death shall part us," she the would- 
be-widow wife. 

She the worldling born of worldlings — father, mother — 

be content, 
Ev'n the homely farm can teach us there is something in 

descent. 

Yonder in that chapel, slowly sinking now into the 

ground. 
Lies the warrior, my forefather, with his feet upon the 

hound. 

Crossed ! for once he saiFd the sea to crush the Moslem in 

his pride; 
Dead the warrior, dead his glory, dead the cause in which 

he died. 

Yet how often I and Amy in the moldering aisle have 

stood. 
Gazing for one pensive moment on that founder of our 

blood. 



12 LOCKSLEY HALL 

There again I stood to-day, and where of old we knelt in 

prayer. 
Close beneath the casement crimson with the shield of 

Locksley — there. 

All in white Italian marble, looking still as if she 

smiled. 
Lies my Amy dead in child-birth, dead the mother, dead 

the child. 

Dead — and sixty years ago, and dead her aged husband 

now, 
I this old white-headed dreamer stooped and kissed her 

marble brow. 

Gone the fires of youth, the follies, furies, curses, pas- 
sionate tears. 

Gone like fires and floods and earthquakes of the planet's 
dawning years. 

Fires that shook me once, but now to silent ashes fall'n 

away. 
Cold upon the dead volcano sleeps the gleam of dying 

day. 

Gone the tyrant of my youth, and mute below the chancel 

stones, 
All his virtues — I forgive them — black in white above 

his bones. 



SIXTY YEARS AFTER. 18 

Gone the comrades of my bivouac, some in fight against 

the foe. 
Some thro^ age and slow diseases, gone as all on earth 

will go. 

Gone with whom for forty years my life in golden se- 

quer^'^ ran. 
She with all the charm of woman, she with all the 

breadth of man. 

Strong in will and rich in wisdom, Edith, loyal, lowly, 

sweet. 
Feminine to her inmost heart, and feminine to her tender 

feet. 

Very woman of very woman, nurse of ailing body and 

mind. 
She that linked again the broken chain that bound me to 

my kind. 

Here to-day was Amy with me, while I wandered down 

the coast. 
Near us Edith^s holy shadow, smiling at the slighter 

ghost. 

Gone our sailor son thy father, Leonard early lost at 

sea; 
Thou alone, my boy, of Amy's kin and mine art left to 

me. 



14 LOCKSLEY HALL 

Gone thy tender-natured mother, wearying to be left 

alone. 
Pining for the stronger heart that once had beat beside 

her own. 

Truth, for Truth is Truth, he worshiped, being true as 
he was brave; 

Good, for Good is Good, he followed, yet he looked be- 
yond the grave. 

Wiser there than you, that crowning barren Death as 

lord of all, 
Deem this overtragic drama's closing curtain is the 

pall! 

Beautiful was death in him who saw the death but kept 

the deck, 
Saving women and their babes, and sinking with the 

sinking wreck. 

Gone forever! Ever? no — for since our dying race 

began, 
Ever, ever, and forever was the leading light of 

man. 

Those tliat in barbarian burials killed the slave, and slew 

the wife, 
Eelt ^\■itlun themselves the sacred passion of tlie second 

life. 



SIXTY YEAKS AFTER. 15 

Indian warriors dream of ampler hunting-grounds beyond 

the night; 
Ev'n the black Australian dying hopes he shall return, a 

white. 

Truth for truth, and good for good! The Good, the 
True, the Pure, the Just; 

Take the charm '^Forever" from them, and they crum- 
ble into dust. 

Gone the cry of *^ Forward, Forward,'' lost within a 

growing gloom; 
Lost, or only heard in silence from the silence of a 

tomb. 

Half the marvels of my morning, triumphs over time 

and space. 
Staled by frequence, shrunk by usage into commonest 

commonplace! 

'Forward," rang the voices then, and of the many mine 
was one. 
Let us hush this cry of *' Forward'' till ten thousand 
years have gone. 

Far among the vanish'd races, old Assyrian kings would 
flay 

Captives whom they caught in battle— iron-hearted vic- 
tors they. 



16 LOCKSLEY HALL 

Ages after, while in Asia, he that led the wild Mo- 
guls, 

Timur built his ghastly tower of eighty thousand human, 
skulls. 



Then, and here in Edward's time, an age of noblest En- 
glish names. 

Christian conquerors took and flung the conquer'd Chris- 
tian into flames. 

Love your enemy, bless your haters, said the Greatest of 

the great; 
Christian love among the Churches looked the twin of 

heathen hate. 

From the golden alms of Blessing man had coined him- 
self a curse : 

Rome of C^sar, Rome of Peter, which was crueller? 
which was worse? 

France had shown a light to all men, preached a Gosj^el, 

all men^s good; 
Celtic Demos rose a demon, shrieked and slaked the light 

with blood. 

Hoiie was ever on her mountain, watching till the day 
begun 

Crowned with sunlight— over darkness— from the still 
unrisen sun. 



SIXTY YEARS AFTER. 17 

Have we grown at last beyond the passion of the primal 
clan ? 
" Kill your enemy, for you hate him," still, " your enemy " 
was a man. 

Have we sunk below them? peasants maim the helpless 

horse, and drive 
Innocent cattle under thatch, and burn the kindlier 

brutes alive. 

Brutes, the brutes are not your wrongers — burned at mid- 
night, found at morn. 

Twisted hard in mortal agony with their offspring, born- 
unborn. 

Clinging to the silent Mother! Are we devils? are we 

men? 
Sweet St. Francis of Assisi, would that he were here 

again. 

He that in his Catholic wholeness used to call the very 
flowers 

Sisters, brothers — and the beasts — whose pains are hard- 
ly less than ours! 

Chaos, Cosmos! Cosmos, Chaos! who can tell how all 
will end! 

Read the wide world^s annals, you, and take their wis- 
dom for your friend. 



18 LOCKSLEY HALL 

Hope the best, but hold the Present fatal daughter of 

the Past, 
Shape your heart to front the hour, but dream not that 

the hour will last. 

Ay, if dynamite and revolver leave you courage to be 

wise : 
When was age so crammed with menace? madness? 

written, spoken lies? 

Envy wears the mask of Love, and, laughing sober fact 
to scorn. 

Cries to Weakest as to Strongest, " Ye are equals, equal- 
born. " 

Equal-born? yes, if yonder hill be level with the 

flat. 
Charm us. Orator, till the Lion look no larger than the 

Cat. 

Till the Cat thro' that mirage of overheated language 

loom 
Larger than the Lion, — Demos end in working its own 

doom. 

Russia bursts our Indian barrier, shall we fight her? shall 

we yield? 
Pause, before you sound the trumpet, hear the voices 

from the field. 



SIXTY YEARS AFTER. 19 

Those three hundred millions under one Imperial scepter 
now. 

Shall we hold them? shall we lose them? take the suf- 
frage of the plow. 

Nay, but these would feel and follow Truth if only you 

and you, 
Rivals of realm-ruining party, when you speak were 

wholly true. 

Plowmen, Shepherds, have I found, and more than once, 

and still could find. 
Sons of God, and kings of men in utter nobleness of 

mind. 

Truthful, trustful, looking upward to the practiced 

hustings-liar; 
So the Higher wields the Lower, while the Lower is the 

Higher. 

Here and there a cotter's babe is royal-born by right di- 
vine; 

Here and there my lord is lower than his oxen or his 
swine. 

Chaos, Cosmos! Cosmos, Chaos! once again the sickening 

game; 
Freedom, free to slay herself, and dying while they shout 

her name. 



20 LOCKSLEY HALL 

Step by step we gained a freedom known to Europe, 

known to all; 
Step by step we rose to greatness, — thro' the tonguesters 

we may fall. 

You that woo the Voices — tell them " old experience is 

a fool/' 
Teach your flattered kings that only those who can not 

read can rule. 

Pluck the mighty from their seat, but set no meek ones 

in their place; 
Pillory wisdom in your markets, pelt your offal at her 



Tumble Nature heel o'er head, and, yelling with the yell- 
ing street. 

Set the feet above the brain and swear the brain is in the 
feet. 

Bring the old dark ages back without the faith, without 

the hope. 
Break the State, the Church, the Throne, and roll their 

ruins down the slope. 

Authors — atheist, essayist, noveKst, realist, rhymster, 

play your part. 
Paint the mortal shame of nature with the living hues of 

Art 



SIXTY TEARS AFTER. ^1 

Rip your brothers' vices open, strip your own foul pas- 
sions bare; 

Down with Reticence, down with Reverence— forward- 
naked — let them stare. 

Feed the budding rose of boyhood with the drainage of 

your sewer; 
Send the drain into the fountain, lest the stream should 

issue pure. 

Set the maiden fancies wallowing in the troughs of 

Zolaism, — 
Forward, forward, ay and backward, downward too into 

the abysm. 

Do your best to charm the worst, to lower the rising 

race of men; 
Have we risen from out the beast, then back into the 

beast again? 

Only '' dust to dust " for me that sicken at your lawless 

din, 
Dust in wholesome old-world dust before the newer 

world begin. 

Heated am I? you — you wonder— well, it scarce becomes 

mine age — 
Patience! let the dying actor mouth his last upon the 

stage. 



22 LOCKSLEY HALL 

Cries of unprogiessive dotage ere the dotard fall 



)? 

Noises of a current narrowing, not the music of a 
deep? 

Ay, for doubtless I am old, and think gray thoughts, for 

I am gray : 
After all the stormy changes shall we find a changeless 

May? 

After madness, after massacre. Jacobinism and Jac- 
querie, 
Some diviner force to guide us thro' the days I shall not 

Sep.? 



When the schemes and all the systems. Kingdoms and 

Republics fall. 
Something kindlier, higher, holier — all for each and each 

for all? 

All the full-brain, half -brain races, led by Justice, Love, 

and Truth; 
All the millions one at length, with all the visions of my 

youth? 

All diseases quenched by Science, no man halt, or deaf, 

or blind; 
Stronger ever born of weaker, lustier body, larger 

mind? 



SIXTY YEARS AFTER. 23 

Earth at last a warless world, a single race, a single 

tongue, 
I have seen her far away — for is not Earth as yet so 

young?— 

Every tiger madness muzzled, every serpent passion 

kilFd, 
Every grim ravine a garden, every blazing desert 

tiird. 

Robed in universal harvest up to either pole she 

smiles. 
Universal ocean softly washing all her warless 



Warless? when her tens are thousands, and her thous- 
ands millions, then — 

All her harvest all too narrow — who can fancy warless 
men? 

Warless? war will die out late then. Will it ever? late or 

soon? 
Can it, till this outworn earth be dead as yon dead world 

the moon? 

Dead the new astronomy calls her. ... On this day and 

at this hour, 
In this gap between the sand-hills, whence you see the 

Locksley tower. 



24 LOCKSLEY HALL 

Here we met, our latest meeting — Amy — sixty years 

ago— 

She and I — the moon was falling greenish thro' a rosy 

glow. 

Just above the gate-way tower, and even where you see 

her now — 
Here we stood and clasped each other, swore the seeming 

deathless vow. . . , 

Dead, but how her living glory lights the hall, the dune, 

the grass! 
Yet the moonlight is the sunlight, and the sun himself 
will pass. 

Venus near her! smiling downward at this earthlier earth 

of ours. 
Closer on the Sun, perhaps a world of never-fading 

flowers. 

Hesper, whom the poet call'd the Bringer home of all 

good things. 
All good things may move in Hesper, perfect peoples, 

perfect kings. 

Hesper — Venus — were we native to that splendor or in 

Mars, 
We should see the Globe we groan in, fairest of their 

evening stars. 



SIXTY YEARS AFTER. 35 

Could we dream of wars and carnage, craft and madness, 

lust and spite. 
Roaring London, raving Paris, in that point of peaceful 

Ught? 

Might we not in glancing heavenward on a star so silver- 
fair. 

Yearn, and clasp the hands and murmur, " Would to 
God that we were there?" 



Forward, backward, backward, forward, in the immeas- 
urable sea, 

Sway'd by vaster ebbs and flows than can be known to 
you or me. 

All the suns — are these but symbols of innumerable 

man, 
Man or Mind that sees a shadow of the planner or the 

plan? 

Is there evil but on earth? or pain in every peopled 
sphere? 

Well be grateful for the sounding watchword, " Evolu- 
tion " here. 



Evolution ever climbing after some ideal good, 
And Reversion ever dragging Evolution in the 
mud. 



2i) LOCKSLEY HALL 

What aie men that He should heed ns? cried the king of 

sacred song; 
Insects of an hour, that hourly work their brother insect 

wrong. 

While the silent Heavens roll, and Suns along their fiery 

way. 
All their planets whirling round them, flash a million 

miles a day. 

Many an Jj]on molded earth before her highest, man, 

was born, 
Many an ^on too may pass when earth is manless and 

forlorn. 

Earth so huge, and yet so bounded — pools of salt, and 

plots of land — 
Shallow skin of green and azure — chains of mountain, 

grains of sand! 

Only That which made us, meant us to be mightier by 

and by. 
Set the sphere of all the boundless Heavens within the 

human eye. 

Sent the shadow of Himself, the boundless, thro' the 

human soul. 
Boundless inward, in the atom, boundless outward, m the 

Whole. 



SIXTY YEARS AFTER. 27 

Here is Locksley Hall, my grandson, here the lion- 
guarded gate. 

Not to-night in Locksley Hall — to-morrow — ^you, you 
come so late. 

Wrecked — your train — or all but wrecked? a shattered 

wheel? a vicious boy! 
Good, this forward, you that preach it, is it well to wish 

you joy? 

Is it well that while we range with Science, glorying in 

the Time, 
City children soak and blacken soul and sense in city 

shme? 

There among the glooming alleys Progress halts on pal- 
sied feet. 

Crime and hunger cast our maidens by the thousand on 
the street. 

There the Master scrimps his haggard seamstress of her 

daily bread. 
There a single sordid attic holds the living and the 

dead. 

There the smoldering fire of fever creeps across the rotted 

floor. 
And the crowded couch of incest in the warrens of the 

poor. 



28 LOCKSLEY HALL 

Nay, your pardon, cry your '' forward/' yours are hope 

and youth, but I— 
Eighty winters leave the dog too lame to follow with the 

cry, 

Lame and old and past his time, and passing now into 

the night; 
Yet I would the rising race were half as eager for the 

light. 

Light the fading gleam of Even? light the glimmer of 

the dawn? 
Aged eyes may take the growing glimmer for the gleam 

withdrawn. 

Far away beyond her myriad coming changes earth will 

be 
Something other than the wildest modern guess of you 

and me. 

Earth may reach her earthly worst, or if she gain her 

earthly best. 
Would she find her human offspring this ideal man at 

rest? 

Forward, then, but still remember how the course of 
Time will swerve. 

Crook and turn upon itself in many a backward stream- 
ing curve. 



SIXTY YEAES AFTER. ^y 

Not the Hall to-niglit, my grandson! Death and Silence 

hold their own. 
Leave the Master in the first dark hour of his last sleep 

alone. 

Worthier soul was he than I am, sound and honest, rus- 
tic Squire, 

Kindly landlord, boon companion—youthful jealousy is 
a liar. 

Cast the poison from your bosom, oust the madness from 

your brain. 
Let the trampled serpent show you that you have not 

lived in vain. 

Youthful! youth and age are scholars yet but in the lower 

school. 
Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a 

fool. 

Yonder lies our young sea-village— Art and Grace are 

less and less: 
Science grows and Beauty dwindles — roofs of slated liide- 

ousness! 

There is one old Hostel left us where they swing the 

Locksley shield. 
Till the peasant cow shall butt the '' Lion passant " from 

his field. 



30 LOCKSLEY HALL 

Poor old Heraldry, poor old History, poor old Poetry, 

passing hence. 
In the common deluge drowning old political common 

sense! 

Poor old voice of eighty crying after voices that have 

fled! 
All I loved are vanished voices, all my steps are on the 

dead. 

All the world is ghost to me, and as the phantom dis- 
appears, 

Forward far and far from here ig all the hope of eighty 
years. 



In this Hostel — I remember — I repent it o'er his 

grave — 
Like a clown — by chance he met me — I refused the hand 

he gave. 

From that casement where the trailer mantles all the 

moldering bricks — 
I was then in early boyhood, Edith but a child of 

six — 

While I sheltered in this archway from a day of driving 

showers — 
Peeped the winsome face of Edith like a flower among 

the flowers. 



SIXTY YEARS AFTER. 31 

Here to-night! the Hall to-morrow, when they toll the 

Chapel bell! 
Shall I hear in one dark room a wailing, '* I have loved 

thee well?'' 

Then a peal that shakes the portal — one has come to 

claim his bride. 
Her that shrunk, and put me from her, shrieked, and 

started from my side — 

Silent echoes! you, my Leonard, use and not abuse your 

day. 
Move among your people, know them, follow him who 

led the way. 

Strove for sixty widow'd years to help his homelier 

brother men. 
Served the poor, and built the cottage, raised the school, 

and drained the fen. 

Hears he now the Voice that wrong'd him? who shall 

swear it can not be? 
Earth would never touch her worst, were one in fifty 

such as he. 

Ere she gain her Heavenly-best, a God must mingle with 

the game: 
Nay, there may be those about us whom we neither see 

nor name. 



32 LOCKSLEY HALL 

Felt within us as ourselves, the Powers of Good, the 

Powers of 111, 
Strewing balm, or shedding poison in the fountains of 

the Will. 

Follow you the Star that lights a desert pathway, yours 

or mine. 
Forward, till you see the highest Human Nature is 

divine. 

Follow Light, and do the Right — for man can half con- 
trol his doom — 

Till you find the deathless Angel seated in the vacant 
tomb. 

Forward, let the stormy moment fly and mingle with the 
Past. 

I that loathed, have come to love him. Love will con- 
quer at the last. 

Gone at eighty, mine own age, and I and you will bear 
the pall; 

Then I leave thee Lord and Master, latest Lord of Locks- 
ley Hall. 



THE FLEET.* 



I. 
You, you, if you shall fail to understand 

What England is, and what her all-in-all. 
On you will come the curse of all the land. 
Should this old England fall 
Which Nelson left so great. 

ir. 
His isle, the mightiest Ocean-power on earth. 

Our own fair isle, the lord of every sea — 
His fuller franchise — what would that be worth — 
Her ancient fame of Free — 
Were she ... a fallen state? 

* The speaker said that '* he should like to be assured that other 
outlying portions of the Empire, the Crown colonies, and im- 
portant coaling stations were being as promptly and as thoroughly 
fortified as the various capitals of the self-governing colonies, lie 
was credibly informed that this was not so. It was impossible, 
also' not to feel some degree of anxiety about the efficacy of pres- 
ent provision to defend and protect, by means of swift, well-armed 
cruisers, the immense mercantile fleet of the Empire. A third 
source of anxiety, so far as the colonies were concerned, was the ap- 
l)arently insufficient provision for the rapid manufacture of arma- 
ments and their prompt dispatch when ordered to their colonial des- 

2 (33) ■ 



34 THE FLEET. 

III. 

Her dauntless army scatter^, and so small. 
Her island-myriads fed from alien lands — 

The fleet of England is her all-in-all ; 
Her fleet is in your hands. 
And in her fleet her Fate. 

IV. 

You, you, that have the ordering of her fleet. 
If you should only compass her disgrace. 

When all men starve, the wild mob's million feet 
Will kick you from your place, 
But then too late, too late. 

tination. Hence the necessity for manufacturing appliances equal 
to the requirements, not of Great Britain alone, but of the whole 
Empire. But the key-stone of the whole was the necessity for an 
overwhelmingly powerful fleet and efficient defense for all necessary 
coaling stations. This was as essential for the colonies as for Great 
Britain. It was the one condition for the continuance of the Em- 
pire. All that Continental Powers did with respect to armies 
England should effect with her navy. It was essentially a defen- 
sive force, and could be moved rapidly from point to point, but it 
should be equal to all that was expected from it. It was to 
strengthen the fleet that colonists would first readily tax themselves, 
because they realized how essential a powerful fleet was to the safety 
not only of that extensive commerce sailing in every sea, but ulti- 
timately to the security of the distant portions of the Empire. -Who 
could estimate the loss involved in even a brief period of disaster to 
the Imperial Navy? Any amount of money timely expended in 
preparation would be quite insignificant when compared with the 
possible calamity he had refered to/'— Extract from Sir Graham 
Berry's Speech at the Colonial Institute, Wi November ISSQ. 



Opening of the Indian and Colonial Exhibition 
by the Queen. 



I. 

Welcome, welcome with one voice! 
In your welfare we rejoice, 
Sons and brothers that have sent. 
From isle and cape and continent. 
Produce of your field and flood. 
Mount and mine, and primal wood; 
Works of subtle brain and hand. 
And splendors of the morning land. 
Gifts from every British zone; 
Britons, hold your own! 

II. 
May we find, as ages run. 
The mother featured in the son; 
And may yours forever be 
That old strength and constancy 
Which has made your fathers great 
In our ancient island State, 
And wherever her flag fly. 
Glorying between sui and sky. 
Makes the might of Britain known; 
Britons, hold your own ! 

(35) 



36 OPEN^ING OF THE EXHIBITION BY THE QUEEN* 

III. 

Britain fought her sous of yore — 
Britain failed; and never more, 
Careless of our growing kin, 
Shall we sin our fathers* sin, 
Men that in a narrower day — 
Unprophetic rulers they — 
Drove from out the mother's nest 
That young eagle of the West 
To forage for herself alone; 
Britons, hold your own! 

IV. 

Sharers of our glorious past. 
Brothers, must we part at last? 
Shall we not thro' good and ill 
Cleave to one another still? 
Britain's myriad voices call, 
" Sons, be welded each and all. 
Into one imperial whole. 
One with Britain, heart and soul! 
One life, one flag, one fleet, one Throne !*' 
Britons, hold your own! 



THE PROMISE OF MAY, 



" A surface man of theories, true to none.' 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

Farmer Dobson. 

Mr. Philip Edgar {afterward Mr. Harold), 
Farmer Steer {T>ob..^ and ^\ a' s Father), 
Mr. Wilson {a School-master). 

HiGGINS 

James 

Dan Smith 

Jackson 

Allen 

Dora Steer. 

Eva Steer. 

Sally Allen 

MiLLY VFarm Servants. 

Farm Servants, Laborers, etc. 



Farm Lahoren 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 



ACT. I. 

Scene. — Before Farm-house. 

Farming men and Women. Farming Men carrying forms, etc., 
Women carrying baskets of knives and forks, etc. 

1st Farming Man. 
Be thou a-gawin^ to the long barn? 

2d Farming Man. 
Ay, to be sewer! Be thou? 

1st Farming Man. 

Why, 0^ coorse, fur it be the owd man^s birthdaay. He 
be heighty this very daay, and 'e telled all on us to be i' 
the long barn by one o'clock, fur he'll gie us a big dinner, 
and haafe th' parish '11 be theer, an' Miss Dora, an' Miss 
Eva, an' all ! 

2d Farming Man. 

Miss Dora be coomed back, then? 

(41) 



42 the promise of may. 

1st- Farming Mais". 

Ay, haafe an hour ago. She be in theer now. {Point- 
ing to house. ) Owd Steer wur afeiird she wouldn^t be back 
i' time to keep his birthdaay, and he wur in a tew about it 
all the murnin'; and he sent me wi' the gig to Littlechester 
to fetch 'er; and 'er an' the owd man they fell a-kissin' o' 
one another like two sweet'arts i' the poorch as soou as he 
clapt eyes of 'er. 

2d Farming Majs". 
Foalks says he likes Miss Eva the best. 

1st Farmiis^g Man. 

Kaay, I knaws nowt o' what foalks says, an' I caares 
nowt neither. Foalks doesn't hallus knaw thessens; but 
sewer I be, they be two o' the purtiest gels ye can see of a 
summer murnin'. 

2d Farming Man. 
Bean't Miss Eva gone off a bit of 'er good looks o' laate? 

1st Farming Man. 
Noli, not a bit. 

2d Farming Man. 

Why coom awaay, then, to the long barn. 

[Exeunt'\ 

Dora looks out of vjindow. Enter Dobson. 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 43 

Dora (singing.) 
The town lay still in the low sunlight, 
The hen cluckt late by the white farm gate, 
The maid to her dairy came in from the cow^ 
The stock-dove coo'd at the fall of night, 
The blossom had open'd on every bongh; 

joy for the promise of May, of May, 

joy for the promise of May. 

{Nodding at Dobsok.) Fm coming down, Mr. Dob- 
son. I haven't seen Eva yet. Is she anywhere in the 
garden? 

DOBSON. 

Noa, Miss. I hadn't seed 'er neither. 

Dora {enters singing, ) 
But a red fire woke in the heart of the town, 
And a fox from the glen ran away with the hen. 
And a cat to the cream, and a rat to the cheese; 
And the stock-dove coo'd, till a kite dropt down, 
And a salt wind burnt the blossoming trees; 
grief for the promise of May, of May, 
' grief for the promise of May. 

I don't know why I sing that song; I don't love it. 

DOBSON-. 

Blessings on your pretty voice. Miss Dora. Wheer did 
they lam ye that? 

Dora. 
In Cumberland, Mr. Dobson. 



44 THE PKOMISE OF MAT. 

DOBSOlf. 

An' how did ye leave the owd uncle i' Coomberland? 

Dora. 
Getting better, Mr. Dobson. But he'll never be the 
same man again. 

Dobson. 
An' how d'ye find the owd man 'ere? 

Dora. 
As well as ever, I came back to keep his birthday. 

Dobso:n^. 
Well, I be coomed to keep his birthdaay an' all. The 
owd man be heigh ty to-daiiy, be ant he? 

Dora. 
Yes, Mr. Dobson. And the day's bright like a friend, 
but the wind east like an enemy. Help me to move this 
bench for him into the sun. (They move bench,) No, 
not that way — here, under the apple-tree. Thank you. 
Look how full of rosy blossom it is. [Pointing to aj^ple- 
tree. 

DOBSOIf. 

Theer be redder blossoms nor them, Miss Dora. 

Dora. 
Wliere do they blow, Mr. Dobson? 

Under your eyes. Mi.ss Doiu, 



THE pro:mise of may. 45 

Dora. 
Do they? 

DOBSON. 

And your eyes be as blue as 

Dora. 
What, Mr. Dobson? A butcher's frock? 

DOBSON. 

Noa, Miss Dora: as blue as 

Dora. 
Bluebell, harebell, speedwell, bluebottle, succory, for- 
get-me-not? 

Dobson. 
Noa, Miss Dora; as blue as - 

Dora. 
The sky? or the sea on a blue day? 

Dobson. 
Naay then. I mean'd they be as blue as violets. 

Dora. 
Are they? 

Dobson. 

Theer ye goas agean, Miss, niver believing owt I says to 
ye — hallus a-fobbing ma off, tho' ye knaws I love ye. I 
warrants ye'll think moor o' this young Squire Edgar as 
ha' coomed among us — the Lord knaws how — yell think 
more on 'is little finger than hall my hand at the haltar. 



4:6 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

DOEA. 

Perhaps, Master Dobson. I can't tell, for I have never 
seen him. Bat my sister wrote that he was mighty pleas- 
ant, and had no pride in him. 

Dobson. 
He^ll be arter you now. Miss Dora. 

Dora. 
Will he? How can I tell? 

Dobson. 
He' J been arter Miss Eva, haan't he? 

Dora. 
Not that I know. 

Dobson. 
Didn't I spy 'em a-sitting i' the woodbine harbor to- 
gither? 

Dora. 
What of that? Eva told me that he was taking her like- 
ness. He's an artist. 

Dobson. 
What's a hartist? Idoant believe he^s iver a 'eart under 
his waistcoat. And I tells ye what. Miss Dora: he's no 
respect for the Queen, or the parson, or the justice o' peace, 
or owt. I ha' heard 'im a-gawin' on 'ud make your 'air- 
God bless it! — stan' on end. And wuss nor that. When 
theer wur a meeting o' farmers at Littlechester t'other 
daay, and they was all a-crying out at th^ bad times, he 



THE PK03II3E C'F MAY. 47 

cooms up, and he calls out among our oiin men, ^'The land 
belongs to the people!" 

Dora. 
And what did you say to that? 

DOBSON. 

Well, I says, s'pose my pig's the land, and you say it be- 
longs to the parish, and theer be a thousand i' the parisli, 
taiikin' in the women and children; and s'pose I kills my 
pig, and gi'es it among 'em, why there wudn't be a dmner 
for nawbody, and I should ha' lost the pig. 

Dora. 
And what did he say to that? 

DOBSON. 

Nowt — what could he saay? But I taakes 'im fur a bad 
lot and a burn fool, and I haiites the very sight on him. 

Dora. 
{Loohing at Dobson".) Master Dobson, you are a comeiy 
man to look at. 

DOBSON^. 

I thank you for that, Miss Dora, oiiyhow. 

Dora. 
Ay, but you turn right ugly when you're in an ill temper; 
and I promise you that if you forget yourself in your be- 
havior to this gentleman, my father's friend, I will never 
change word with you again. 



48 THE PKOMISE OF MAY. 

(Enter Farmin^g Ma-^ from barn). 
Farmiitg Mak. 

Miss, the farming men 'ull hev their dinner i^ the long 

barn, and tlie master \id be straiinge an^ pleased if you VI 

step in fust, and see that all be right and reglar fur ■'em 

afore he coom. 

[Exit 

Dora. 

I go. Master Dobson, did you hear what I said? 

DOBSON. 

Yeas, yeas! I'll not meddle wi' 'im if he doan't meddle 
m' mea. (Exit Dora.) Coomly, says she. I niver 
thowt o' mysen i' that waiiy; but if she'd taake to ma i' 
that waay, or ony waiiy, Fd slaiive out my life fur 'er. 
" Coomly to look at,'' says she— but she said it spiteful 
like. To look at — yeas, '' coomly;" and she mayn't be so 
fur out theer. But if that be nowt to she, then it be nowt 
tome. (Looking of stage,) School-master! Why if Steer 
han't haxed school-master to dinner, thaw 'e knaws I was 
hallus agean heving school-master i' the parish! fur him 
as be handy wi' a book bean't but haafe a hand at a pitcli- 
fork. 

Filter AViLSON. 

AVell, AVilson. I seed that one cow o' thine i' the pin- 
fokl agean as I wur a-coomin' 'ere. 

WiLSOK. 

Very likely, Mr. Dobson. She zvill break fence. I can't 
keep her in order. 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 49* 

DOBSOK. 

An^ if tha can't ke?p thy one cow i' border, how cau tha 
keep all thy scholards i' horder? But let that goa by. What 
dost a knaw o" this Mr. Hedgar as be a-lodgin' wi' ye? I 
coom'd ujDon ^im t'other daay lookin' at the coontry, then 
a-scrattin' upon a bit o' paiiper, then a-lookin' agean; and 
I taaked 'im fur soom sort of a land-surveyor — but a bean'r. 

Wilson". 
He's a Somersetshire man, and a very civil spoken gen- 
tleman. 

DOBSON. 

Gentleman! What be he a-doing here ten mile an' moor 
fro' a raitil? We laays out o' the waiiy fur gentlefoalk alto- 
gither — leiistwaays they niver cooms 'ere but fur the trout 
i' our beck, fur they be kuaw'd as far as Littlechester^ 
But 'e doan't fish neither. 

Wilson. 

Well, it's no sin in a gentleman to fish. 

DOBSON. 

Noil, but I haates 'im. 

WiLsoiq^. 
Better step out of his road, then, for he's walking to us^ 
with a book in his hand. 

DOBSON. 

An' I haates books an' all, fur they puts foalk off the 
owd waays. 



50 THE PEOMISE OF MAY. 

Entei' Edgak, reading— not seeing Dobson and Wilsoj^. 
V Edgak. 

This author, with his charm of simple style 

And close dialectic^, all but proving man 

An automatic series of sensations, 

Has often numbed me into apathy 

Against the unpleasant jolts of this rough road 

That breaks oif short into the abysses — made me 

A Quietist taking all things easily. 

DOBSON. 

(Aside,) There mun be summut wrong theer, Wilson, 
fur I doan't understan' it. 

Wilson. 
{Aside,) Nor I either, Mr. Dobson. 

DOBSON. 

{Scornfully.) An' thou doan't understan' it neither— 
and thou school-master an' all. 

Edgae. 

What can a man, then, live for but sensations. 
Pleasant ones? men of old would undergo 
Unpleasant for the sake of pleasant ones 
Hereafter, like the Moslem beauties waiting 
To clasp their lovers by the golden gates. 
For me, whose cheerless Houris after death 
Are Night and Silence, pleasant ones — the while — 
If possible, here! to crop the flower and pass. 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 51 

DOBSO]N". 

Well, I never ^eilrd the likes o' that afoor. 

WlLSOK. • 

(Aside.) But I have, Mr. Dobson. It's the old Scripture 
text, ^^Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." I'm 
sorry for it, for, tho' he never comes to church, I thought 
better of him. 

Edgak. 

^^ What are we," says the blind old man in Lear? 

^' As flies to the Gods; they kill us for their sporf 

DOBSOI^. 

(Aside.) Then the old man i' Lear should be shaamed 
of hissen, but noiln o' the parishes goas by that naame 'ere- 
abouts. 

Edgar. 
The Gods! but they, the shadows of ourselves, 
Have past forever. It is Xature kills. 
And not for her sport either. 8he knows nothing. 
Man only knows, the worse for him ! for why 
Can not he take his pastime like the flies? 
And if my pleasure breed another's pain. 
Well — is not that the coarse of Nature too. 
From the dim dawn of Being— her main law 
Whereby she grows in beauty — that her flies 
Must massacre each other? this poor Nature! 

DOBSOK. 

Natur! Natnr! Well, it be i' my natur to knock 'im o^ 
the 'eiid now; but I weiint. 



-52 the promise of may. 

Edgar. 
A Quietist taking all things easily — why — 
Have I \Men dipping into this, again 
To steel myself against the leaving her? 
( Closes hook, seeing WiLSOiS". ) 
Oood-day! 

Wilson". 
Good-day, sir. 

(DoBSON looks hard at Edgar.) 

Edgar. 
( To DoBSON. ) Have I the pleasure, f riead, of knowing 
you? 

DOBSON^. 

Dobson. 

Edgar. 
Good-day, then, Dobson. [Exit. 

DOBSON. 

'' Good-daiiy then, Dobson I" Civil-spoken indeed I Why, 
Wilson, tha ^eard ^im thysen — the feller couldn^t find a 
Mister in his mouth fur me, as farms five hoonderd haacre. 

AViLSOif. 
You never find one for me, Mr. Dobson. 

Dobson. 

Noii, fur thou be nobbut school-master; but I taakes 'im 
fur a Lunuun swindler, and a burn fool. 



TH E r I am i se o f m a y. o 3 

Wilson. 
He can hardly be both, and he pays me regular every 
Saturday. 

Dob SON. 
Yeas; but I halites 'im. 

Ente7' Steer, Farm Men and Women. 

Steer. 
{Goes and sits under apple-tree.) Hev' ouy o' ye seen 
Eva? 

DOBSON. 

Noa, Mr. Stgpr. ^ 

Steer. 

Well, I reckons they^U hev^ a fine cider-crop to-year if 
the blossom ^owds. Good-murnin^ neighbors, and the 
sail me to you, my men. I taiikes it kindly of all o' you 
that you be coomed — what^s the newspaiiper word, Wilson? 
— celebrate — to celebrate my birthdaiiy i' this fashion. 
Niver man 'ed better friends, and T will saay niver master 
'ed better men : fur thaw I may ha' fallen out wi' ye some- 
times, the fault, mebbe, wur as much mine as yours; and, 
thaw I says it mysen, niver men 'ed a better master — and I 
knaws what men be, and what masters be, fur I wur nobbut 
a laiiborer, and now I be a landlord — burn a plowman, and 
now, as far as money goiis^ I be a gentleman, thaw I beiin't 
naw scholard, fur I 'edn't naw time to mailke mysen a 
scholard while I wur mailkin' mysen a gentleman, but I ha 
tailen good care to turn oat boiith my darters right down 
fine laiidies. 



54 THE PEOMISE OF MAY. 

DOBSON. 

An^ soa they be. 

1st Farming Man. 
Soa they be ! soil they be ! 

2d Farming Man. 
The Lord bless boath on ^em! 

3d Farming Man. 
An* the sail me to you, Master. 

4th Farming Man. 
And long life to boath on *em. An* the saame to you. 
Master Steer, likewise. 

Steer. 
Thank ye! 

Enter Eva. 

Wheer *asta been? 

Eva. 
{Timidly.) Many happy returns of the day, father. 

Steer. 

They can't be many, my dear, but I *oapes theyll be 
*appy. 

DOBSON. 

Why, tha looks haiile anew to last to a hoonderd. 

Steer. 
An* why shouldn't I last to a hoonderd? Haiile! why 
shouldn't I be haiile? fur thaw I be heighty this very daily. 



THE I'KOMISE OF MAY. 55 

I niver 'es sa much as one piii^s prick of paain; an' I can 
taiike my glass along wi' the youngest, fur I niver touched 
a drop of owt till my oiin wedding-daay, an* then I wur 
turned huppads o' sixty. Why shouldn't I he haale? I 
ha* plowed the ten-aiicre — it be mine now — afoor ony o' ye 
wur burn — ye all knaws the ten-aiicre — I mun ha' plowed 
it moor nor a hoonderd times; hallus hup at sunrise, and 
I'd drive the plow straiiit as a line right i' the faace o' the 
sun, then back agetin, a-follering myoanshadder — then 
hup ageiin i' the faace o' the sun. Eh! how the sun 'ud 
shine, and the larks 'ud sing i' them daays, and the smell 
o' the mou'd an' all. Eh! if I could ha' gone on wi' the 
plowin' nobbut the smell o' the mou'd 'ud ha' maade ma 
live as long as Jeruselem. 

Eva. 
Methuselah, father. . 

Steer. 

Ay, lass, but when thou be as owd as me thou'll put one 
word fur another as I does. 

DOBSOK. 

But, Steer, thaw thou be haale anew I seed tha a-limpm' 
up just now wi' the roomatics i' the knee. 

Steer. 

Roomatics! Noa; I laame't my knee last night running 
arter a thief. Bean't there house-breakers down i' Little- 
chester, Dobson — doan't ye hear of ony? 



56 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

DOBSON. 

Ay, that there be. Immanuel Goldsmith's was broke into 
o' Monday night, and ower a hoonderd pounds worth o' 
rings stolen. 

Steer. 

So I thowt, and I heard the winder — that's the winder at 
the end o' the passage, that goas by thy chaumber. ( Turn- 
ing to Eva. ) Why, lass, what maakes tha sa red ? Did 
'e get into thy chaumber? 

Eva. 
Father! 

Steer. 
Well, I runned arter thief i' the dark, and fell agean 
coal-scuttle and my kneeii gev waay, or I'd ha' cotched 'im, 
but afoor I coomed up he got thruff the winder agean. 

Eva. 
Got thro' the window again? 

Steer. 
Ay, but he left the mark of 'is foot i' the flower-bed; 
now theer be noiin o' my men, thinks I to niysen, 'nd ha' 
done it 'cep' it were Dan Smith, fur T cotched 'im once 
a-stealin' coals, an' I sent fur 'im, an' I measured his foot 
wi' the mark i' the bed, but it wouldn't fit — seaams to me 
the mark wur maiide by a Lunnun boot. {Looks at Eva.) 
Why, now, what maakes tha sa white? 

Eva. 

Eright, father! 



the promise of may. 57 

Steer. 
Maake thysen eiisy. Til hev the winder naailecl up, and 
put Towser under it. 

Eva. 

(Clasping her hands.) No, no, father! Towser '11 tear 
him all to pieces. 

Steer. 
Let him keep awaay, then; but coom, cooni! let's be gaw- 
in. They ha' broached a barrel of aale i' the long barn, 
and the fiddler be theer, and the lads and lasses 'ull hev a 
dance. 

Eva. 
(Aside.) Dance! small heart have I to dance. I should 
seem to be dancing upon a grave. 

Steer. 
Wheer be Mr. Edgar? about the premises? 

DOBSOK. 

Hallus about the premises! 

Steer. 

So much the better, so much the better, I likes 'im, and 
Eva likes 'im. Eva can do owt wi' 'im; look for 'im, Eva, 
and bring 'im to the barn. He 'ant naw pride in 'im, and 
we'll git 'im to speechify for us arter dinner. 

Eva. 
Yes, father! \_Exit 



58 the promise of may. 

Steer. 
Coom along then, all the rest o^ ye ! Church-warden be 
a-coomin, thaw me and ^ini we niver Agrees about the tithe; 
and Parson mebbe, thaw he niver mended that gap i^ the 
glebe fence as I telled ^im; and Blacksmith, thaw he niver 
shoes a herse to my likings; and Baaker, thaw I sticks to 
hoam-maade — but all on ^em welcome, all on ^em welcome; 
and l\e hed the long barn cleared out of all the machines, 
and the sacks, and the taiiters, and the mangles, and theer 
^11 be room anew for all o^ ye. Foller me. 

All. 

Yeas, yeas! Three cheers for Mr. Steer! 

[All exeunt except DoBSON into ham. 

Enter Edgar. 

DoBSON {who is going, turns). 

Squire! — if so be you be a squire. 

Edgar. 
Dobbins, I think. 

DOBSON. 

Dobbins, you thinks; and I thinks ye wears a Lunnun 
boot. 

Edgar. 
Well? 

DOBSON. 

And I thinks Pd like to taake the measure o^ your foot. 

Edgar. 
Ay, if you'd like to measure your own length upon the 
grass. 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 59 

DOBSON. 

Coom, coom, that's a good im. Why, I could throw 
four o' ye; but I promised one of the Misses I wouldn't 
.meddle wi ye, and I weiint. 

[Exit into barn. 

Edgar. 

Jealous of me with Eva! Is it so? 

AVell, tho' I grudge the pretty jewel, that I 

Have worn, to such a clod, yet that might be 

The best way out of it, if the child could keep 

Her counsel. I am sure I wish her happy. 

But I must free myself from this entanglement. 

I have all my life before me — so has she — 

Give her a month or two, and her affections 

Will flower toward the light in some new face. 

Still I am half afraid to meet her now. 

She will urge marriage on me. I hate tears. 

Marriage is but an old tradition. I hate 

Traditions, ever since my narrow fath<Br, 

After my frolic with his tenant's girl, 

Made younger elder son, violated the whole 

T'radition of our land, and left his heir. 

Born, happily, with some sense of art, to live 

By brush and pencil. By and by, when Thought 

Comes down among the crowd, and man perceives that 

The lost gleam of an after-life but leaves him 

A beast of prey in the dark, why then the crowd 

May wreak my wrongs upon my wrongers. Marriage! 

That fine, fat, hooked-nosed uncle of mine, old Harold, 



60 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

Who leaves me all his laud at Littlechester, 
He, too, would oust me from his will, if I 
Made such a marriage. And marriage in itself — 
The storm is hard at hand will sweep away 
Thrones, churches, ranks, traditions, customs, mar- 
riage 
One of the feeblest! Then the man, the woman, 
Following their best affinities, will each 
Bid their old bond farewell with smiles, not tears; 
Good wishes, not reproaches; with no fear 
Of the world^s gossij^ing clamor, and no need 
Of veiling their desires. 

Conventionalism, 
Who shrieks by day at what she does by night, 
Would call this vice; but one timers vice may be 
The virtue of another; and Vice and Virtue 
Are but two masks of self; and what hereafter 
Shall mark out Vice from Virtue in the gulf 
Of never-dawning darkness? 

Enter Eva. 

My sweet Eva, 
Where have you lain in ambush all the morning? 
They say your sister, Dora, has returned, 
And that should make you happy, if you love her! 
But you look troubled. 

Eva. 

Oh, I love her so, 
I was afraid of her, and I hid myself. 
We never kept a secret from each other; 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 61 

She would have seen at once into my trouble^ 
And ask^d me what I could not answer. Oh^ Philip, 
Father heard you last night. Our savage mastiff, 
That all but killed the beggar, will be placed 
Beneath the window, Philip. 

Edgar. 

Savage, is he? 
What matters? Come, give me your hand and kiss^ 

me 
This beautiful May morning. 

Eva. 

The most beautiful 
May we have had for many years! 

Edgar. 

And here- 
Is the most beautiful morning of this May. 
Nay, yoii must smile upon me ! There — you make 
The May and morning still more beautiful, 
You, the most beautiful blossom of the May. 

Eva. 
Dear Philip, all the world is beautiful 
If we were happy, and could chime in with it. 

Edgar. 
True; for the senses, love, are for the world; 
That for the senses. 

Eva. 

Yes. 



02 the peomise of may. 

Edgar. 

And when the man. 
The child of evolution, flings aside 
His swaddling-bands, the morals of the tribe. 
He, following his own instincts as his God, 
Will enter on the larger golden age; 
No pleasure then tabooed : for when the tide 
Of full democracy has overwhelmed 
This Old world, from that flood will rise the New, 
Like the Love-goddess with no bridal-veil, 
King, trinket of the Church, but naked Nature 
In all her loveliness. 

Eva. 

What are you saying? 

Edgar. 
That if we did not strain to make ourselves 
Better and higher than Nature, we might be 
As happy as the bees there at their honey 
In these sweet blossoms. 

Eva. 

Yes; how sweet they smell! 

Edgar. 
There! let me break some off for you. 

[Breaking branch off, 

Eva. 

My thanks. 
But, look, how wasteful of the blossom you are ! 
One, two, three, four, five, six — you have robbed poor 
father 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 63 

Of ten good apples. Oh, I forgot to tell you 
' He wishes you to dine along with us, 

And speak for him after — you that are so clever! 

Edgar. 
I grieve I can not; but, indeed — 

Eva. 

What is it? 

Edgar. 
Well, business, I must leave you, love, to-day. 

Eva. 
Leave me, to-day! And when will you return? 

Edgar. 
I can not tell precisely; but — 

Eva. 

But what? 
Edgar. 
I trust, my dear, we shall be always friends. 

Eva. 
After all that has gone between us —friends! 
What, only friends? [Drops branch, 

Edgar. 

All that has gone between us 
Should surely make us friends. 

Eva. 

But keep us lovers. 



«34 the promise of may. 

Edgar. 
Child, do you love me now? 

Eva. 

Yes, now and ever. 

Edgar. 
Then you should wish us both to love forever. 
But, if you loill bind love to one forever, 
Altho^ at first he take his bonds for flowers. 
As years go on, he feels them press upon him, 
Begins to flutter in them, and at last 
Breaks thro^ them, and so flies away forever; 
While, had you left him free use of his wings, 
Who knows that he had ever dreamed of flying? 

Eva. 

But all that sounds so wicked and so strange; 
•' Till death ns part " — those are the only words. 
The true ones — nay, and those not true enough, 
For they that love do not believe that death 
Will part them. Why do you jest with me, and try 
To frighten me? Tho^ you are a gentleman, 
I but a farmer's daughter — 

Edgar. 

Tut! you talk 
Old feudalism. When the great Democracy 
Makes a new world 

Eva. 

And if you be not jesting. 
Neither the old world, nor the new, nor father, 
Sister, nor you, shall ever see me more. 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 66 

Edgar {moved). 
Then — (aside) Shall I say it? — (aloud) fly with me to- 
day, 

Eva. 
No! Philip, Philip, if you do not marry me, 
I shall go mad for utter shame and die. 

Edgar. 
Then, if we needs must be conventional. 
When shall your parish-parson bawl our bans 
Before your gaping clowns? 

Eva. 

Not in our church— 

I think I scarce could hold my head up there. 

Is there no other way? 

Edgar. 

Yes, if you cared 
To fee an overopulent superstition, 
Then they would grant you what they call a license 
To marry. Do you wish it? 

Eva. 

Do I wish it? 

Edgar. 
In London. 

Eva. 
You will write to me? 

Edgar. 

I will. 



the pkomise op may. 

Eva. 
And I will fly to you thro' the night, the storm- 
Yes, tho' the fire should run along the ground. 
As once it did in Egypt. Oh, you see, 
I was just out of school, I had no mother — 
My sister far away — and you, a gentleman. 
Told me to trust you : yes, in everything — 
That was the only trite love; and I trusted — 
Oh, yes, indeed, I would have died for you. 
How could you — Oh, how could you? — nay^ how 

could I? 
But now you will set all right again, and I 
Shall not be made the laughter of the village. 
And poor old father not die miserable. 

DoKA {singing in the distance.) 
^' joy for the promise of May, of May, 
joy for the promise of May." 

Edgak. 
Speak not so loudly; that must be your sister. 
You never told her, then, of what has passed 
Between us. 

Eva. 
Never! 

Edgar. 

Do not till I bid you. 

Eva. 

No, Philip, no. [ Turns away» 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 6? 

Edgar (moved.) 

How gracefully there she stands 
Weeping — the little Niobe! What! we prize 
The statue or the picture all the more 
When we have made them ours ! Is she less lovable, 
Less lovely, being wholly mine? To stay — 
Follow my art among these quiet fields. 
Live with these honest folk — 

And play the fool! 
No! she that gave herself to me so easily 
Will yield herself as easily to another. 

Eva. 
Did you speak, Philip? 

Edgar. 

Nothing more, farewell. 
[ They embrace, 

Dora (coming nearer, ) 

^' grief for the promise of May, of May, 
grief for the promise of May. " 

Edgar (still embracing her, ) 
Keep up your heart until we meet again. 

Eya. 
If that should break before we meet again? 

Edgar. 
Break! nay, but call for Philip when you will, 
And he returns. 



68 the peomise of may. 

Eva. 
Heaven hears you, Philip Edgar I 

Edgar {moved). 
And he would hear you even from the grave. 
Heaven curse him if he come not at your call ! 

[Exit 

Enter Dora. 

Dora. 
Well, Eva! 

Eva. 
Oh, Dora, Dora, how long you have been away from 
home! Oh, how often I have wished for you! It seemed 
to me that we were parted forever. 

Dora. 
Forever, you foolish child! What^s come over you ? We 
parted like the brook yonder about the alder island, to come 
together again in a moment and to go on together again^ 
till one of us be married. But where is this Mr. Edgar 
whom you praised so in your first letters? You haven't 
even mentioned him in your last. 

Eva. 
He has gone to London. 

Dora. 

Ay, child, you look thin and pale. Is it for his absence? 
Have you fancied yourself in love with him.^ That's all 
nonsense, you know, such a baby as you are. But you 
shall tell me all about it. 



the promise of may. 69 

Eva. 

Not now — presently. Yes, I have been in trouble, but I 
am happy — I think, quite happy now. 

Dora {taking Evan's hand). 

Come, then, and make them happy in the long barn, for 
father is in his glory, and there is a piece of beef like a 
house-side, and a plum-pudding as big as the round hay- 
stack. But see, they are coming out for the dance already. 
Well, my child, let us join them. 

JEnter all from, lam laughing. Eva sits reluctantly under 
apple-tree. Steer enters smoking, sits iy Eva. 

Dance, 



70 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 



ACT II. 

Five years have elapsed between Acts I. and II. 

Scene. — A meadoio. On one side a imtliway going over a 
rustic bridge. At hack the farm-house among trees. 
In the distance a church spire. 

DoBSOK and Dora. 

DOBSON. 

So the owd uncle i^ Coomberland be dead. Miss Dora, 
bean't he? 

Dora. 
Yes, Mr. Dobson, I\e been attending on his death-bed 
and his burial. 

Dobson. 
It be five year sin' ye went afoor to him, and it seems to 
me nobbut t'other day. Hesn't he left ye nowt.^ 

Dora. 
No, Mr. Dobson. 

Dobson. 
But he were mighty fond o' ye, warn't he? 

Dora. 
Fonder of poor Eva — like everybody else. 

Dobson {handing Dora hasket of roses). 
Not like me, Miss Dora; and I ha' browt these roses to 
ye— I forgits what they calls 'em, but I hallus gi'ed soom 



THE PKOMISE OF MAT. 71 

on ^em to Miss Eva at this time o^ year. Will ye taake ^em? 
fur Miss Eva, she set the bush by my dairy winder afoor 
she went to school at Littlechester — so I alius browt soom 
on ^em to her; and now she be gone, will ye taake ^em^ 
Miss Dora? 

DOKA. 

I thank you. They tell me that yesterday you men- 
tioned her name too suddenly before my father. See that 
you do not do so again! 

DOBSON". 

Noa; I knaws a deal better now. I seed how the owd 
man wur vext. 

DOEA. 

I take them, then, for Eva^s sake. 

[Takes lashet, places some in her dress» 

DOBSOK. 

Eva^s saiike. Yeas. Poor gel, poor gel ! I can^t abear 
to think on ^er now, fur I'd ha' done owt fur 'er my sen; an* 
ony o' Steer's men, an' ony o' my men 'ud ha' done owt fur 
'er, an' all the parish 'ud ha' done owt fur 'er, fur we was 
all on us proud on 'er, an' them theer be soom of her oan 
roses, an' she wur as sweet as ony on 'em — the Lord bless 
'er — 'er oan sen; an' weant ye taake 'em now. Miss Dora, 
fur 'er saake an' fur my saake an' all? 

Dora. 
Do you want them back again? 

DOBSOK. 

iNoa, noa ! Keep 'em. But I bed a word to saay to ye^ 



72 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 



Dora. 



Why, Farmer, you should be in the hayfield looking after 
your men; you couldn't have more splendid weather. 

DOBSON. 

I be a-going theer; but I thowt I'd bring tha them roses 
fust. The weather's well anew, but the glass be a bit 
shaaky. S'iver weVe led moast on it. 

Dora. 
Ay! but you must not be too sudden with it either, as 
you were last year, when you put it in green, and your 
stack caught fire. 

DOBSON". 

I were insured, Miss, an' I lost nowt by it. But I weant 
be too sudden wi' it; and I feel sewer. Miss Dora, that I ha' 
been noan too sudden wi' you, fur I ha' sarved for ye well 
nigh as long as the man sarved for 'is sweet'art i' Scriptur'. 
Weant ye gi'e me a kind answer at last? 

Dora. 
I have no thought of marriage, my friend. We have 
been in such grief these five years, not only on my sister's 
account, but the ill success of the farm, and the debts, and 
my father's breaking down, and his blindness. How could 
I think of leaving him? 

DOBSON. 

Eh, but I be well to do; and if ye would nobbut hev me, 
I would tajike the owd blind man to my oan fireside* 
You should hev him alius wi' ye. 



the promise of may. 73 

Dora. 
You are generous, but it can not be. I can not love you; 
nay, I think I never can be brought to love any man. It 
seems to me that I hate men, ever since my sister left 
us. Oh, see here. {Fulls out a letter. ) I wear it next to 
my heart. Poor sister, I had it five years ago. ^' Dearest 
Dora, — I have lost myself, and am lost forever to you 
and my poor father. I thought Mr. Edgar the best of 
men, and he has proved himself the worst. Seek not for 
me, or you may find me at the bottom of the river. — 
Eva.'' 

DOBSON. 

Be that my fault? 

'Dora. 
Ko; but how should I, with this grief still at my hearty 
take to the milking of your cows, the fatting of your 
calves, the making of your butter, and the managing of 
your poultry? 

DOBSOl^. 

Naity, but I hev an owd woman as 'ud see to all that; 
and you should sit i' your oan parlor quite like a laady, 
ye should! 

Dora. 

It can not be. 

DOBSON. 

And plaiiy the pianner, if ye liked, all daay long, like a 
lajidy, ye should an' all. 

Dora. 
It can not be. 



74 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

DOBSON. 

And I would loove tha moor nor ony gentleman 'ud 
loove tha. 

Dora. 

No, no; it can not be. 

DOBSOi^. 

And p^raps ye hears ^at I soomtimes taakes a drop too 
much; but that be all along o^ you, Miss, because ye weiint 
hev me; but, if ye would, I could put all that o^ one side 
easy anew. 

Dora. 
Can not you understand plain words, Mr. Dobson? I 
tell you it can not be. 

Dobson. 
Eh, lass! Thy feyther eddicated his darters to marry 
gentlefoalk, and see what^s coomed on it. 

Dora. 
That is enough, Farmer Dobson. You have shown me 
that, though fortune had born yon into the estate of a 
gentleman, you would still have been Farmer Dobson. You 
had better attend to your hayfield. Good-afternoon. 

[Exit. 

Dobson. 

" Farmer Dobson!" Well, I be Farmer Dobson; but I 

thinks Farmer Dobson's dog 'ud ha^ knaw'd better nor to 

cast her sister's misfortin inter ^er teeth arter she'd been 

ii-reaadin' me the letter wi' ""er voice a-shaakin^ and the 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 75 

drop in 'er eye. Theer she goas! Shall I f oiler 'er and ax 
^er to maake it up? Noa, not yet. Let ^er cool upon it; 
I likes ^er all the better fur taiikin^ me down, like a laady, 
as she be. Farmer Dobson! I be Farmer Dobson, sewer 
anew; but if iver I cooms upo^ Gentleman Hedgar agean, 
and doan^t laay my cart-whip athurt ^is shoulders, why 
then I bean^t Farmer Dobson, but summun else — blaame't 
if I bean^! 

Enter Hay-makers loith a load of hay. 

The last on it, eh? 

1st Hay-maker. 
Yeas. 

DOBSON". 

Hoiim wi' it, then. {Exit surlily. 

1st Hay-maker. 
Well, it be the last load hoam. 

2d Hay-maker. 
Yeas, an^ owd Dobson should be glad on it. What 
maiikes 'im alius sa glum? 

Sally Allen. 
Glum! he be wus nor glum. He coom^d up to me yister- 
daily in the haayfield, when mea and my sweetVt was a- 
workin^ along o^ one side wi' one another, and he sent ^im 
awaily to toother end o' the field; and when 1 axed ^im why, 
he tolled me ^at sweet^arts niver worked well togither; and 
I tolled 'hn 'at sweet'arts alius worked best togither; and 
then he called me a rude nail me, and I can't abide 'im. 



76 the promise of may. 

James. 
Why, lass, doan^t tha knaw he be sweet upo' Dora Steer, 
.^nd she weant sa much as look at 'im? And wheniver 'e 
sees two sweet'arts togither like thou and me, Sally, he be 
fit to bust hissen wi' spites and jalousies. 

Sally. 
Let 'im bust hissen, then, for owt 1 cares. 

1st Hay-maker. 

Well but, as I said afoor, it be the last load hoam; do 
thou and thy sweet^art sing us hoiim to supper — '* The 
Last Load Hoam." 

All. 
Ay! ^^ The Last Load Hoam.'' 

So)ig. 

What did ye do, and what did ye saay, 

Wi' the wild white rose, and the woodbine sa gaay. 

An' the midders all mow'd, and the sky sa blue — 

What did ye saiiy, and what did ye do. 

When ye thowt there were nawbody watchin' o'you. 

And you and your Sally was forkin' the haiiy. 

At the end of the da ay. 

For the last load hoam? 

What did we do, and what did we saiiy, 
Wi' the brier sa green, and the wilier sa graiiy. 
An' the midders all mow'd, and the sky sa blue — 
Do yon think I be a^awin' to tell it to you, 



THE PROMISE OF MAY, 77 

What we mowt saay, and what we mowt do. 
When me and my Sally was forkin^ the haay, 

At the end of the daay. 

For the last load hoiim? 

But what did ye saay, and what did ye do, 
Wi' the bmtterflies out, and the swallers at plaay. 
An' the midders all mow'd, and the sky sa blue? 
Why, coom then^ owd feller, I'll tell it to you; 
For me and my Sally we sweiir'd to be true. 
To be true to each other, let 'appen what maay, 

Till the end of the daity 

And the last load hoam. 

All. 
Well sungi 

James. 
Fanny be the naame i' the song, but I swopt it fur she. 

[Pointmg to Sally. 

Sally. 
Let ma aloan afoor foalk, wilt tha? 

1st Hay^-maker. 
Ye shall sing that agean to-night, fur owd Dobson '11 gi'e 
018 a bit o' suiD^Der. 

Sally. 
I weant goa to owd Dobson; he wur rude to me i' tha 
liaayfield, and he'll be iiide to me ageitn to-night. Owd 
Steer's gotten all his grass down and wants a hand, and I'll 
goa to him. 



78 the peomise of may. 

1st Hay-maker. 
Owd Steer gi^es nubbut cowd tea to Hs men, and owd 
Dobson gi'es beer. 

Sally. 
But I^d like owd Steer^s cowd tea better nor Dobson 's 
beer. Good-bye. [Going. 

. James. 
Gi^e us a buss fust, lass. 

Sally. 
I teird tha to let ma aloan! 

James. 
Why, wasn^t thou and me a-bussin^ o' one another toother 
side 0^ the haay-cock, when owd Dobson coom^d upo' us? I 
can't let tha aloan if I would, Sally. 

[ Offering to hiss hen 

Sally. 
Git along wi' ye, do! [ExiL 

• [All laugh; exeunt singing. 
" To be true to each other, let 'appen what maay. 
Till the end o' the daiiy 
An' the last loiid hoiim. " 

Enter Harold. 
Harold. 
Not Harold! '' Philip Edgar, Philip Edgar!'' 
Her phantom call'd me by the name she loved. 
I told her I should hear her from the grave. 
Ay! yonder is her casement. I remember 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 79 

Her bright face beaming star-like down upon me 
Thro* that rich cloud of blossom. Since I left her 
Here weeping, I have ranged the world, and sat 
Thro* every sensual course of that full feast 
That leaves but emptiness. 

lSo7ig. 
'^To be true to each other, let *appen what maay. 
To the end o* the daay 
An* the last load hoam. " 

Harold. 
Poor Eva! my God, if man be only 
A willy-nilly current of sensations — 
iBeaction needs must follow revel — yet — 
Why feel remorse, he, knowing that he must have 
Moved in the iron grooves of Destiny? 
iRemorse then is a part of Destiny, 
Nature a liar, making us feel guilty 
Of her own faults. 

My grandfather — of him 
They say, that women — 

this mortal house,. 
Which we are born into, is haunted by 
The ghosts of the dead passions of dead men; 
And these take flesh again with our own flesh. 
And bring us to confusion. 

He was only 
A poor philosopher who called the mind 
Of children a blank page, a tahiila rasa. 
There, there, is written in invisible inks 



80 THE PROMISE OF MAY» 

** Lust, Prodigality, Covetousness, Craft, 
Cowardice, Murder ^^ — and the heat and fire 
Of life will bring them out, and black enough^ 
So the child grow to manhood : better death 
With our first wail than life — 

Song (further off.) 

" Till the end o' the daily 
An^ the last load hoiim, 
Loiid hoiim/' 

This bridge again! {Stejjs on the hridge,) 

How often have I stood 
With Eva here! The brook among its flowers! 
Forget-me-not, meadow-sweet, willow-herb. 
I had some smattering of science then. 
Taught her the learned names, anatomized 
The flowers for her — and now I only wish 
This pool were deep enough, that I might plunge 
And lose myself forever. 

Enter Dan Smith {singing). 
Gee oop! whoii! Gee oop! whoa! 
Scizzars an^ Pumpy was good uns to goa 
Thruf slush an' squad 
When roads was bad. 
But hallus \id stop at the Vine-an'-the-Hop^ 
Fur bojlth on 'em knaw'd as well as mysen 
That beer be as good fur 'erses as men. 
Gee oop! whoa! Gee oop! whoii! 
Scizzars an' Pumpy was good uns to goa* 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 81 

The beer^s gotten oop into my 'ead. Stiver I mun git 
along back to the farm, fur she telFcl ma to taake the cart 
to Littlechester. 

Eyiter Dora. 
Half an hour late! why are you loitering here? Away 
with you at once. [Exit Dan Smith* 

(Seeing Harold on bridge.) 
Some madman, is it, 
Gesticulating there upon the bridge? 
I am half afraid to pass. 

Harold. 

Sometimes I wonder, 
When man has surely learnt at last that all 
His old-world faith, the blossom of his youth. 
Has faded, falling fruitless — whether then 
All of us, all at once, may not be seized 
"With some fierce passion, not so much for Death 
As against Life, all, all, into the dark — 
No more! — and science now could drug and balm us 
Back into nescience with as little pain 
As it is to fall asleep. 

This beggarly life, 
This poor, flat, hedged-in field — no distance — this 
Hollow Pandora-box, 

With all the pleasures flown, not even Hope 
Left at the bottom ! 

Superstitious fool. 
What brought me here? To see her grave? her ghost? 
Her ghost is everyway about me here. 



82 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

Dora (coming forwar'd). 
Allow me, sir, to pass you. 

Harold. 

Eva! 

Dora. 

Eva! 

Harold. 
What are you? Where do you come from? 

Dora. 

From the farm 
Here, close at hand. 

Harold. 

Are you — you are — that Dora, 
The sister. I have heard of you. The likeness 
Is very striking. 

Dora. 
You knew Eva, then? 

Harold. 

Yes — I was thinking of her when — yes, 
Many years back, and never since have met 
Her equal for pure innocence of nature, 
And loveliness of feature. 

Dora. 

No, nor I. 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 83 

Harold. 
Except, indeed, I have found it once again 
In your own self. 

Dora. 
You flatter me. Dear Eva 
Was always thought the prettier. 

Harold. 

And her charm 
Of voice is also yours; and I was brooding 
Upon a great unhappiness when you spoke. 

Dora. 
Indeed, you seemed in trouble, sir. 

Harold. 

And you 

Seem my good angel who may help me from it. 

Dora {aside). 
How worn he looks, poor man! who is it, I wonder? 
How can Ihelp him? {Aloud.) Might I ask your 
name? 

Harold. 
Harold. 

Dora. 
I never heard her mention you. 

Harold. 
I met her at first at a farm in Cumberland — 
Her uncle V 

Dora. 

She wa.-: there vjx years ago. 



si the promise of may. 

Harold. 
Aud if she never mentioned me^, perhaps 
The painful circumstances which I heard — 
I will not vex you by repeating them — 
Only last week at Littlechester, drove me 
From out her memory. She has disappeared 
They told me, from the farm — and darker news. 

Dora. 
She has disappeared, poor darling, from the world — 
Left but one dreadful line to say, that we 
Should find her in the river; and we dragged 
The Littlechester River all in vain: 
Have sorrowed for her all these years in vain. 
And my poor father, utterly broken down 
By losing her — she was his favorite child — 
Has let his farm, all his affairs, I fear. 
But for the slender help that I can give, 
Fall into ruin. Ah! that villain, Edgar, 
If he should ever show his face among us. 
Our men and boys would hoot him, stone him, hunt 

him 
With pitchforks off the farm, for all of them 
Loved her, and she was worthy of all love. 

Harold. 
They say, we should forgive our enemies. 

Dora. 
Ay, if the wretch were dead I might forgive him; 
We know not whether he be dead or living. 



the promise of may. 85 

Harold. 
What Edgar? 

Dora. 
Philip Edgar of Toft Hall 
In Somerset. Perhaps you know him? 

Harold. 

Slightly. 

(Aside.) Ay, for how slightly have I known myself. 

Dora. 
This Edgar, then, is living? 

Harold. 

Living? well — 

One Philip Edgar of Toft Hall in Somerset 
Is lately dead. 

Dora. 
Dead! — is there more than one? 

Harold. 
Nay— now— not one, (aside) for I am Philip Harold. 

Dora. 
That one, is he then — dead! 

Harold. 

(Aside.) My father's death, 
Let her believe it mine; this, for the moment, 
Will leave me a free field. 

Dora. 

Dead! and this world 
Is brighter for his absence as that other 
Is darker for his presence. 



the pkomise of may. 

Harold. 

Is not this 
To speak too pitilessly of the dead? 

Dora. 
My five-years^ anger can not die at once, 
Not all at once with death and him. I trust 
I shall forgive him — hy and by — not now. 
sir, you seem to have a heart; if you 
Had seen us that wild morning when we found 
Her bed unslept in, storm and shower lashing 
Her casement, her poor spaniel wailing for her. 
That desolate letter, blotted with her tears. 
Which told us we should never see her more — 
Our old nurse crying as if for her own child. 
My father stricken with his first paralysis, 
And then with blindness — had you been one of us 
And seen all this, then you would know it is not 
So easy' to forgive — even the dead. 

Harold. 
But sure am I that of your gentleness 
You will forgive him. She, you mourn for, seemed 
A miracle of gentleness — would not blur 
A moth's wing by the touching; would not crush 
The fly that drew her blood; and, were she living, 
Would not — if penitent— have denied him her 
Forgiveness. And perhaps the man himself, 
When hearing of that piteous death, has suffered 
More than we know. But wherefore waste your heart 
In looking on a chill and changeless Past? 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 87 

Iron will fuse, and marble melt; the Past 

Remains the Past. But you are young, and— pardon 

me — 
As lovely as your sister. AVho can tell 
What golden hours, with what full hands, may be 
Waiting you in the distance? Might I call 
Upon your father — I have seen the world — 
And cheer his blindness with a traveler's tales? 

Dora. 
Call if you will, and when you will. I can not 
Well answer for my father; but if you 
Can tell me anything of our sweet Eva 
When in her brighter girlhood, I at least 
Will bid you welcome, and will listen to you. 
Now I must go. 

Harold. 
But give me first your hand; 
I do not dare, like an old friend, to shake it. 
I kiss it as a prelude to that privilege 
When you shall know me better. 

Dora. 

(Aside.) How beautiful 
His manners are, and how unlike the farmers! 
You are staying here? 

Harold. 

Yes, at the way-side inn 
Close by that alder-island in your brook, 
''The Angler's Home." 



88 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

DOEA. 

Are yoit one? 

Harold. 

No, but I 
Take some delight in sketching, and the country- 
Has many charms, altho^ the inhabitants 
Seem semi-barbarous. 

Dora. 

I am glad it pleases you; 
Yet I, born here, not only love the country. 
But its inhabitants too; and you, I doubt not. 
Would take to them as kindly, if you cared 
To live some time among them. 

Harold. 

If I did. 
Then at least one of its inhabitants 
Might have more charm for me than all the country, 

Dora. 
That one, then, should be grateful for your preference, 

Harold. 

I can not tell, tho' standing in her presence. 
(Aside.) She colors! 

Dora. 

Sir! 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 89 

Harold. 

Be not afraid of me 
For these are no conventional flourishes. 
I do most earnestly assure you that 
Your likeness — [Shouts and cries ivWiout. 

Dora. 
What was that? my poor blind father — 

Enter Farming Man. 
Farming Man. 
Miss Dora, Dan Smith's cart hes runned ower a laady i' 
the holler laane, and they ha' ta'en the body up inter your 
chaumber, and they be all a-callin' for ye. 

Dora. 
The body! — Heavens! I come! 

Harold. 

But you are trembling. 
Allow me to go with you to the farm. [Exeunt. 

Enter Dobson. 

DOBSON. 

What feller wur it as 'a' been a-talkin' fur haafe an hour 
wi' my Dora? {Lookmg after him.) Seeams I ommost 
knaws the back on 'im — drest like a gentleman, too. 
Damn all gentlemen, says I! I should ha' thowt they'd 
bed anew of gentlefoalk, as I telled 'er to-daay when she 
fell foul upo' me. 

Minds ma o' sumniun. I could swear to that: but that 



00 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

be all one, fur I haiites 'im afoor I knaws what^e be. 
I'iieerl he turns round. Philip Hedgar o' Soonierfeetl 
Philip Hedgar o' Soomerset! — Noa — yeas — thaw the feller's 
gone and maiide such a litter of his faace. 

Eh lad, if it be thou, 111 Philij^ tha! a-plaayin' the 
saiime gaiime wi' my Dora — 111 Soomerset tha. 

I'd like to drag Im thruff the herse-pond, and she to be 
a-lookin' at it. I'd like to leather Im black and blue, and 
she to be a-laughin' at it. I'd like to fell 'im as dead as a 
bullock ! ( CUncMng his fist. ) 

But what 'ud she saiiy to that? She telled me once not 
to meddle wi' 'im, and now she be fallen out wi' ma, and I 
can't coom at 'er. 

It mun be Jiim. Noa ! Fur she'd niver 'a been talkin' 
liaiife an hour wi' the divil 'at killed her oan sister, or she 
bean't Dora Steer. 

Yeas! Fur she niver knawed 'is faace when 'e wur 'ere 
afoor; but I'll maake 'er knaw! I'll maiike 'er knaw! 

Enter Harold. 
Naay, but I mun git out on 'is waay now, or I shall be 
tlie death on 'im. [Exit. 

Harold. 
How the clown glared at me ! that Dobbins, is it, 
With whom I used to jar? but can he trace me 
Thro' five years' absence, and my change of name. 
The tan of southern summers and the beard? 
I may as well avoid him. 

Lady-like ! 
Lily-like in her stateliness and sweetness! 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 91 

How came she by it? — a daughter of the fields. 
This Dora! 

She gave her hand, unask^l, at the farm-gate; 
I almost think she half -returned the pressure 
Of mine. What, I that held the orange-blossom 
Dark as the yew? but may not those, who march 
Before their age, turn back at times, and make 
Courtesy to custom? and now the stronger motive. 
Misnamed free-will — the crowd would call it con- 
science — 
Moves me — to what? I am dreaming; for the past 
Looked thro' the present, Eva's eyes thro' hers — 
A spell upon me ! Surely I loved Eva 
More than I knew! or is it but the past 
That brightens in retiring? Oh, last night. 
Tired, pacing my new lands at Littlechester, 
I dozed upon the bridge, and the black river 
Flow'd thro' my dreams — if dreams they were. She rose 
From the foul flood and pointed toward the farm, 
And her cry rang to me across the years, 
I call you, Philip Edgar, Philip Edgar! 
Come, you will set all right again, and father 
Will not die miserable. " I could make his age 
A comfort to him — so be more at peace 
With mine own self. Some of my former friends 
Would find my logic faulty; let them. Color 
Flows thro' my life again, and I have lighted 
On a new pleasure. Anyhow we must 
Move in the line of least resistance when 
The stronger motive rules. 



92 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

But she hates Edgar. 
May not this Dobbins, or some other, spy 
Edgar in Harold? Well, then, I must make her 
Love Harold first, and then she will forgive 
Edgar for Harold^s sake. She said herself 
She would forgive him, by and by, not now — 
For her own sake then, if not for mine — not now — 
But by and by. 

Enter Dobsoi?- behind, 

DOBSON". 

By and by — eh, lad, dost a knaw this paaper? Ye drop- 
ped it upo' the road. '^ Philip Edgar, Esq.^^ Ay, you be 
a pretty squire. I ha^ fun' ye out, I hev. Eh, lad, dosta 
knaw what tha means wi' by and by? Fur if ye be goin' to 
sarve our Dora as ye sarved our Eva — then, by and by, if 
she weant listen to me when I be a-tryin' to saave 'er — if 
she weant — look to thysen, for, by the Lord, I'd think na 
moor o' maakin' an end o' tha nor a carrion craw — noa — 
thaw they hanged ma at 'Size fur it. 

Harold. 
Dobbins, I think! 

DOBSON. 

I bejin't Dobbins. 

Harold. 
Nor am I Edgar, my good fellow. 

DOBSON. 

Tha lies! What hasta been saiiyin' to my Dora? 



the promise of may. 93 

Harold. 
I have been telling her of the death of one Philip Edgar 
of Toft Hall, Somerset. 

DOBSOl^. 

Tha lies! 

Harold ( pulling out a neivspaper). 
Well, my man, it seems that you can read. Look there 
— under the deaths. 

DOBSON. 

'' 0' the 17th, Philip Edgar, o' Toft Hall, Soomerset." 
How coom thou to be sa like 'im, then? 

Harold. 
Naturally enough; for T am closely related to the dead 
man^s family. 

DOBSON-. 

An ^ow coom thou by the letter to ^im? 

Harold. 
Naturally again; for as I used to transact all his busi- 
ness for him, I had to look over his letters. Now then, 
see these {takes out letters). Half a score of them, all di- 
rected to me — Harold. 

DOBSON". 

'Arold! 'Arold! ^Arold, so they be. 

Harold. 
My name is Harold! Good-day, Dobbins! [Exit, 



94 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

DOBSON. 

^Arold! The feller's clean daazed, an^ maazed, an' 
maated, an' muddled ma. Dead! It mun be true, fur it 
wur i' print as black as owt. Naay, but '' Good-daay, 
Dobbins. " Why, that were the very twang on 'im. Eh, 
lad, but whether thou be Hedgar, or Hedgar's business 
man, thou hesn't naw business 'ere wi' my Dora, as I 
knows on, an' whether thou calls thysen Hedgar or Har- 
old, if thou stick to she I'll stick to thee — stick to tha 
like a weasel to a rabbit, I will. Ay! and I'd like to 
shoot tha like a rabbit and all. "Good-daay, Dobbins." 
Dang tha! 



THE PEOMISE OF MAY. 95 



ACT III. 

ScEKE. — A room in Steer's House. Door leading int(p 
bedroom at the lach. 

Dora {ringing a handiell), 
Milly! 

E7iter Milly. 
Milly. 
The little ^ymn? Yeas, Miss; but I were so ta'en up wi^ 
leadin' the owd man about all the blessed murnin' 'at I 
ha' nobbut lamed my sen haafe on it. 

'^ man, forgive thy mortal foe, 
Nor ever strike him blow for blow; 
For all the souls on earth that live 
To be forgiven must forgive. 
Forgive him seventy times and seven: 
For all the blessed souls in Heaven 
Are both f orgivers and forgiven. " 

But I'll git the book agean, and larn mysen the rest, and 
saay it to ye afoor dark; ye ringed fur that. Miss, didn't ye? 

Dora. 
No, Milly; but if the farming men be come for their 
wages, to send them up to me. 

Milly. 
Yeas, Miss. [Exit 



96 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

Dora {sitting at desk counting money). 
Enough at any rate for the present. {Enter Farming 
Men. ) Goocl-afternoon, my friends. I am sorry Mr. Steer 
still continues too unwell to attend to you, but the school- 
master looked to the paying you your wages when I was 
iiway, didn't he? 

Men. 
Yeas; and thanks to ye. 

Dora. 
Some of our workmen have left us, but he sent me an 
alphabetical list of those that remain; so, Allen, I may as 
well begin with you. 

Allen {ivith his hand to his ear). 
Half abitical ! Taake one o' the young ones fust. Miss, 
fur I be a bit deaf, and I wur hallus scaared by a big word; 
least waays, I should be wi' a lawyer. 

Dora. 
I spoke of your names, Allen, as they are arranged here 
{shows booh) — according to their first letters. 

Allen. 
Letters! Yeas, I sees now. Them be what they lams 
the childer' at school, but I were burn afoor schoolin'-time. 

Dora. 
But, Allen, tho' you can't read, you could whitewash 
that cottage of yours where your grandson had the fever. 

Allen. 
I'll hev it done o' Monday. 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 97 



Dora. 



Else if the fever spread, the parish will have to thank 
you for it. 

Allen. 
Meii? why, it be the LorcVs doin^ noan o' mine; d'ye 
think I'd gi^e ^em the fever? But 1 thanks ye all the 
saame. Miss. ( 7\(.ke8 money. ) 

Dora [calling out names.) 
Higgins, Jackson, Luscombe, Nokes, Oldham, Skip- 
worth! {All tal^e money.) Did you find that you worked 
at all the worse upon the cold tea than you would have 
done upon the beer? 

HiGGIKS. 

Noa, Miss; we worked naw wuss upo^ the cowd tea; but 
we^d ha' worked better uj)o' the beer. 

Dora. 
Come, come, you worked well enough, and I am much 
obliged to all of you. There^s for you, and you, and you. 
Count the money and see if it's all right. 

Mek. 
All right, miss; and thank ye kindly. 

^Exeunt Luscombe, Nokes, Oldham, 
Skipworth. 

Dora. 

Dan Smith, my father and I forgave you stealing our 
coals. [Dan Smith advances to Dora. 

4 



98 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

Dan Smith (beUoiving.) 
Whoy, lor, Miss! that wur sa long back, and the walls 
sa thin, and the winders brokken, and the weather sa cowd, 
and my missus a-gittin' ower 'er lyin^-in. 

Dora. 
Didn't I say that we had forgiven you? But, Dai: 
Smith, they tell me that you — and you have six children— 
spent all your last Saturday's wages at the ale-house; that 
you were stupid drunk all Sunday, and so ill in conse- 
quence all Monday, that you did not come into the hay- 
field. Why should I pay you your full wages? 

Dan Smith. 
I be ready to taake the pledge. 

Dora. 

And as ready to break it again. Besides, it was you that 
were driving the cart — and I fear you were tipsy then, too 
— when you lamed the lady in the hollow lane. 

Dak Smith {helloioing). 

O lor. Miss! noil, noa, noii! Ye sees the holler laiine be 

hallus so dark i' the arternoon, and wheere the big esh- 

tree cuts athurt it, it gi'es a turn like, and 'ow should 

I see to laiime the laiidy, and mea coomin'' alang pretty 

sharp an' all? 

Dora. 

Well, there are your wages; the next time you waste 
them at a pot-house you get no more from me. {Exit 
Dan Smith. ) Sally Allen, you worked for Mr. Dobson, 
didn't you? 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 99 

Sally {advancing). 
Yeiis, Miss; but he wur so rough wi' ma, I couldn't 
abide 'im. 

Dora. 
Why should he be rough with you? You are as good as 
a man in the haylield. What^s become of your brother? 

Sally. 
'Listed for a soJidger, Miss, i' the Queen's Real Hard 
Tillery. 

Dora. 
And your sweetheart — when are you and he to be mar- 
ried? 

Sally. 
At Michaelmas, Miss, please God. 

Dora. 
You are an honest pair. I will come to your wedding. 

Sally. 
An' I thanks ye fur that. Miss, moor nor fur the waiige. 

( Qoing — returns, ) 
'A cotched ma about the waaist. Miss, when 'e wur 'ere 
afoor, an' axed ma to be 'is little sweet'art, an' soa I knaw'd 
'im when I seed 'im ageiin, an' I telled feyther on 'im. 

Dora. 
What is all this, Allen? 

Allen. 
Why, Miss Dora, mea an' my maatel ^, we wants 

to hev' three words wi'ye. ' 



100 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

HiGGINS. 

That be ^im, and mea. Miss. 

Jackson. 

An'' me a. Miss. 

Allej^. 

An^ we weant mention naw naames^ we^d as lief talk o' 
the Divil afoor ye as ^im^, fur they says the master goas 
clean off his 'ead when he 'ears the naame on 'im; but us 
three, arter Sally'd. telled us on 'im, we fun' 'im out a-walkin' 
i' West Field wi' a white 'at, nine o'clock, upo' Tuesday 
murnin', and all on us, wi' your leave, we wants to leather 
'im. 

DOKA. 

Who? 

Allen^. 
Him as did the mischief here, five years sin\ 

Dora. 
Mr. Edgar? 

Allek. 
Theer, Miss I You ha' nailmed 'im — not me. 

Dora. 

He's dead, man — dead; gone to his account — dead and 
buried. 

Allen. 

I bean't sa sewer o' that, fur 8ally knaw'd 'im; now 
then? 



the promise of may. 101 

Dora. 
Yes; it was in the Somersetshire papers. 

Allen. 
Then yon mun be his brother, an' we'll leather Hm, 

JJOEA. 

I never heard that he had a brother. Some foolish mis- 
take of Sally's; but what! would you beat a man for his 
brother's fault? That were a wild Justice indeed. Let by- 
gones be by-gones. Go home! Good-night! {All exeunt.) 
I have once more paid them all. The work of the farm 
will go on still, but for how long? We are almost at 
the bottom of the well; little more to be drawn from it 
— and what then? Encumbered as we are, who would lend 
us anything? We shall have to sell all the land, which 
Father, for a whole life, has been getting together, again, 
and that, I am sure, would be the death of him. What 
am I to do? Farmer Dobson, were I to marry him, has 
promised to keep our heads above water; and the man has 
doubtless a good heart, and a true and lasting love for me; 
yet — though I can be sorry for him — as the good Sally says, 
'^ I can't abide him " — almost brutal, and matched with my 
Harold is like a hedge thistle by a garden rose. But then, 
he, too — will he ever be of one faith with his wife? which 
is my dream of a true .marriage. Can I fancy him kneel- 
ing with me, and uttering the same prayer; standing up 
side by side with me, and singing the same hymn? I fear 
not. Have I done wisely, then, in accepting him? But 
may not a girl's love-dream have too much romance in it to 
be realized all at once, or altogether, or anywhere but in 



102 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

heaven? And yet I had once a vision of a pure and perfect 
marriage, where the man and the woman, only differing as 
the stronger and the weaker, should walk hand in hand to- 
gether down this valley of tears, as they call it so truly, to 
the grave at the bottom, and lie down there together in the 
darkness which would seem but for a moment, to be 
wakened again together by the light of the resurrection, 
and no more partings forever and forever. ( Walks up and 
doiun. She smgs. ) 

*' happy lark, that warblest high 
Above thy lowly nest, 
brook, that brawlest merrily by 
Thro' fields that once were blest, 

tower spiring to the sky, 

graves in daisies dressed, 
Love and Life, how weary am I, 

And how I long for resf 

'Jliere, there, I am a fool! Tears! I have sometimes been 
moved to tears by a chapter of fine writing in a novel; but 
what have I to do with tears now? All depends on me — 
Father, this poor girl, the farm, everything; and they both 
love me — I am all in all to both; and' he loves me too, I 
am quite sure of that. Courage, courage! and all will go 
well. {Goes to hedroom door; opens it.) How dark your 
room is! Let me bring you in here where there is still 
full daylight. {Brings Eva forivard.) Why, you look 
better. 



the promise of may. 103 

Eva. 

And I feel so much better that I trust I may be able by 
and by to help you in the business of the farm; but I must 
not be known yet. Has any one found me out, Dora? 

DOBA. 

Oh, no; you kept your veil too close for that when they 
carried you in; since then, no one has seen you but my- 
self. 

Eva. 

Yes — ^this Milly. 

Dora. 
Poor blind Father^s little guide, Milly, who came to us 
three years after you were gone, how should she know you? 
But now that you have been brought to us as it were from 
the grave, dearest Eva, and have been here so long, will 
you not speak with father to-day? 

Eva. 

Do you think that I may? No, not yet. I am not equal 
to it yet. 

Dora. 
Why? Do you still suffer from your fall in the hollow 
lane? 

Eva. 

Bruised ; but no bones broken. 

Dora. 
I have always told Father that the huge old ash-tree 
there would cause an accident some day; but he would 



104 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

never cut it down, because one of the Steers had planted it 
there in former times. 

Eva. 

If it had killed one of the Steers there the other day., it 
might have been better for her, for him, and for you. 

Dora. 
Come, come, keep a good heart! Better for me! That^s 
good. How better for me? 

Eva. 
You tell me you have a lover. Will he not fly from you 
if he learn the story of my shame and that 1 am still living? 

Dora. 

No ; I am sure that when we are married he will be will- 
ing that you and Father should live with us; for, indeed, he 
tells me that he met you once in the old times, and was 
much taken with you, my dear. 

Eva. 
Taken with me; who was he? Have you told him I am 

here? 

Dora. 

No; do you wish it? 

Eva. 
See, Dora; you yourself are ashamed of me (weeps), and 
I do not wonder at it. 

Dora. 
But I should wonder at myself if it were so. Have we 
not been all in all to one another from the time when we 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 105 

first peeped into the bird's nest, waded in the brook, ran 
after the butterflies, and prattled to each other tnat we 
would marry fine gentlemen, and played at being fine 
ladies? 

Eva. 
That last was my father ''s fault, poor man. And this 
lover of yours — this Mr. Harold—is a gentleman? 

Dora. 
That he is, from head to foot. I do believe I lost my 
heart to him the very first time we met^ and I love him so 
much — ■ 

Eva. 
Poor Dora! 

Dora. 
That I dare not tell him how much I love him. 

Eva. 
Better not. Has he offered you marriage, this gentle- 
man? 

Dora. 

Could I love him else? 

Eva. 

And are you quite sure that after marriage this gentle- 
man will not be ashamed of his poor farmer's daughter 
among the ladies in his drawing-room? 

Dora. 
Shamed of me in a drawing-room! Wasn't Miss A'^ava- 
f^our, our school-mistress at Littlechester, a lady born? 



] 



106 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

Were not our fellow-pupils all ladies? Wasn't dear 
mother herself at least by one side a lady? Can't I speak 
like a lady; pen a letter like a lady; talk a little French 
like a lady; play a little like a lady? Can't a girl when 
she loves her husband, and he her, make herself anything 
he wishes her to be? Shamed of me in a drawing-room, 
indeed! See here! '' I hope your Lordship is quite re- 
covered of your gout?" {Courtesies.) ^'^ Will your Lady- 
ship ride to cover to-day? {Courtesies.) I can recommend 
our Voltigeur. " *^ I am sorry that we could not attend 
your Grace's party on the 10th!" {Courtesies.) There, I 
am glad my nonsense has made you smile! 

Eva. 
I have heard that "your Lordship," and "your Lady- 
ship," and " your Grace" are all growing old-fashioned! 

DOEA. 

But the love of sister for sister can never be old-fash- 
ioned. I have been unwilling to trouble you with ques- 
tions, but you seem somewhat better to-day. We found a 
letter in your bedroom torn into bits. I couldn't make 
it out. What was it? 

Eva. 
From him ! from him ! He said we had been most happy 
together, and he trusted that some time we should meet 
again, for he had not forgotten his promise to come when 
I called him. But that was a mockery, you know, for he 
gave me no address, and there was no word of marriage; 
and, Dora, he signed himself " Yours gratefully " — 
fancy, Dora, "gratefully!" " Yours gratefully!" 



the promise of may. 107 

Dora. 
Infamous wretch ! ( A side. ) Shall I tell her he is dead? 
No; she is still too feebleo 

Eva. 
Hark ! Dora^, some one is coming. I can not and I will 
not see anybody. 

DOEA. 

It is only Milly. 

Filter Milly ivifh basket of roses. 

Dora. 
Well, Milly, why do you come in so roughly? The sick 
lady here might have been asleep. 

Milly. 
Please, Miss, Mr. Dobson telled me to saay he's browt 
some of Miss Eva's roses for the sick laady to smell on, 

Dora. 
Take them, dear. Say that the sick lady thanks him! Is 
he here? 

Milly. 
Yeas, Miss; and he wants to speak to ye particular. 

Dora. 
Tell him I can not leave the sick lady just yet. 

Milly. 
Yeas, Miss; but he says he wants to tell ye summut very 
particular. 



108 the promise of may. 

Dora. 
Not to-day. What are you staying for? 

MiLLY. 

Why, Miss, I be afeard I shall set him a-swearing like 
onythink. 

Dora. 

And what harm will that do you, so that you do not copy 
his bad manners? Godchild. (^.«Y Milly.) But, Eva, 
why did you write " Seek me at the bottom of the river ?^' 

Eva. 
Why? because I meant it! — that dreadful night! that 
lonely walk to Littlechester, the ]"ain beatijig in my face all 
the way, dead midnight when I came upon the bridge; the 
river, black, slimy, swirling under me in the lamp-light, 
by the rotten wharfs — but I was so mad, that I mounted 
upon the parapet — 

Dora. 
You make me shudder! 

Eva. 

To fling myself over, when T heard a voice, ^^ Girl, what 
are you doing there ?^' It was a Sister of Mercy, come 
from the death-bed of a pauper, who had died in his misery 
blessing God, and the Sister took me to her house, and bit 
by bit — for she promised secrecy — I told her all. 

Dora, 
And what then? 



the promise of may. 109 

Eva. 

She would have persuaded me to come back here, but I 
couldn't. Then she got me a place as nursery governess, 
and when the children grew too old for me, and I asked 
her once more to help me, once more she said, "Go 
liome;" but I hadn't the heart or face to do it. And then 
— what would Father say? I sunk so low that I went into 
service — the drudge of a lodging-house — and when the mis- 
tress died, and I appealed to the Sister again, her answer — 
1 think I have it about me — yes, there it is! 

Dora {reads). 
'^ My dear Child, — I can do no more for you. I have 
done wrong in keeping your secret; your Father must be 
now in extreme old age. Go back to him and ask his for- 
giveness before he dies. — Sister Agatha. " Sister Agatha 
is right. Don't you long for Father's forgiveness? 

Eva. 
I would almost die to have it! 

Dora. 
And he may die before he gives it; may drop off any 
day, any hoar. You must see him at once. ( Rings hell. 
Enter Milly.) Milly, my dear, how did you leave Mr. 
Steer? 

Milly. 
He's been a-moanin' and a-groanin' in 's sleep, but I 
thinks he be wakkenin' oop. 

Dora. 
Tell him that I and the lady here wish to see him. You 
see she is lamed, and can not go down to him. 



110 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

MiLLY. 

Yeiis, Miss, I will. [^Exit Milly. 

Dora. 

I ought to prepare you. You must not expect to find 
our Father as he was five years ago. He is much altered; 
but I trust that your return — for you know, my dear, you 
were always his favorite — will give him, as they say, a new 
lease of life. 

Eya {clinging to Dora.) 
Oh, Dora, Dora! 

Enter Steer, led ly Milly. 
Steer. 
Hes the cow cawved? 

Dora. 
No, Father 

Steer. 
Be the colt deiid? 

Dora. 
No, Father. 

Steer. 
He wur sa bellows'd out wi^ the wind this murnin', 'at I 

teird 'em to gallop 'ioi. Be he deiid? 

• 

Dora 
Not that I know. 

Steer. 
What hasta sent fur me, then, fur? 



•IHE PROMISE OF .MA\. ill 

DoEA (taking Steer^s arm). 
Well, Father, I have a surprise for you. 

Steer. 
I ha* niver been surprised but once i* my life, and I 
went blind upon it. 

J3oRA. 
Eva has come home. 

Steer. 
Hoam? fro* the bottom o* the river? 

Dora. 
No, Father, that was a mistake. She's here again. 

Steer. 

The Steers was all gentlefoalks i* the owd times, an* 
I worked early an* laiite to maiike *em all gentlefoalks 
ageiin. The land belonged to the Steers i* the owd times, 
an* it belongs to the Steers agean: I bowt it back ageiin; 
but I couldn't buy my darter back ageiin when she lost 
hersen, could I? I eddicated boiith on *em to marry 
gentlemen, an* one on *em went an* lost hersen i* the 
river. 

Dora. 

No, Father, she*s here. 

Steer. 
Here! she moiint coom here. What would her mother 
saiiy? If it be her ghoiist, we mun abide it. We can*t 
keep a ghoiist out. 



112 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

Eva {falling at his feet) 
forgive me! forgive me! 

Steer. 
"Who said that? Take me awaay, little gell. It be one 

o^ my bad daays. 

[Exit Steer led by Milly. 

Dora (smoothing Eva's forehead.) 
Be not so cast down, my sweet Eva. You heard him say 
it was one of his bad days. He will be sure to know you 
to=morrow. 

Eva. 
It is almost the last of my bad days, I think. I am very 
faint. I must lie down. Give me your arm. Lead me 
back again. 

[LoKA tahes Eva into inner room. 

Enter Milly. 
Milly. 
Miss Dora! Miss Dora! 

Dora {returning and leaving the bedroom door ajar. ) 
Quiet! quiet! What is it? 

Milly. 
Mr. 'Arold, miss. 

Dora. 
Below? 

Milly. 

Yeiis, miss. He be saayin' a word to the owd man- but 
he'll coom up if ye lets 'im. 



the pho.misk uf may. 113 

Dora. 
Tell him, then, that Tm waiting for him. 

MiLLY. 

Yeas, Miss. 

\Exit. Dora nts pensively and zvaits. 

Enter Harold. 
You are pale, my Dora! but the ruddiest cheek 
That ever charm'd the plowman of your wolds 
Might wish its rose a lily, could it look 
But half as lovely. I was speaking with 
Your father, asking his consent — you wished me— 
That we should marry : he would answer nothing, 
I could make nothing of him; but, my flower. 
You look so weary and so worn! What is it 
Has put you out of heart? 

Dora. 

It puts me in heart 
Again to see you; but indeed the state 
Of my poor father puts me out of heart. 
Is yours yet living? 

Harold. 
No— I told you. 

Dora. 

When? 

Harold. 

Confusion!— Ah, well, well! the state we all 
Must come to in our spring-and-winter world 



114 THE FKOMISE OF MAY. 

If we live long enougli! and poor Steer looks 
The very type of Age in a picture, bow'd 
To the earth he came from, to the grave he goes to. 
Beneath the burden of years. 

DOEA. 

More like the picture 
Of Christian in my " Pilgrim's Progress '^ here, 
Bow'd to the dust beneath the burden of sin. 



Sin! What sin? 



Hakold. 

Dora. 
Not his own. 

Harold. 



That nursery tale 



Still read, then? 



Dora. 

Yes; our carters and our shepherds 



Still find comfort there. 

Harold. 

Carters and shepherds! 

Dora. 
Scorn! I hate scorn. A soul with no religion — 
My mother used to say that such a one 
Was without rudder, anchor, compass — might be 
Blown ever3rway with every gust and wreck 
On any rock; and tho' you are good and gentle. 
Yet if thro' any want — 



the promise of may. 115 

Harold. 

Of this religion? 
Child, read a little history, you will find 
The common brotherhood of man has been 
Wrong\l by the cruelties of his religions 
More than could ever have happened thro' the want 
Of any or all of them. 

Dora. 

— But, O dear friend. 
If thro' the want of any — I mean the true one — 
And pardon me for saying it — you should ever 
Be tempted into doing what might seem 
Not altogether worthy of you, I think 
That I should break my heart, for you have taught me 
To love you. 

Harold. 
What is this? some one been stirring 
Against me? he, your rustic amourist. 
The polish'd Damon of your pastoral here, 
This Dobson of your idyl? 

Dora. 

No, Sir, no! 

Did you not tell me he was crazed with jealousy. 
Had threatened ev'n your life, and would say anything? 
Did 1 not promise not to listen to him. 
Not ev'n to see the man? 

Harold. 

Good; then what is it 

That makes you talk so dolefully? 



116 the promise of may. 

Dora. 

I told you — 
My father. Well, indeed, a friend just now. 
One that has been much wrong^l, whose griefs ai*e 

mine. 
Was warning me that if a gentleman 
Should wed a farmer^s daughter, he would be 
Sooner or later shamed of her among 
The ladies, born his equals. 

Harold. 

More fool he! 
AVhat I that have been eall'd a Socialist, 
A C*ommunist, a NihiJist — what you will! 

Dora. 
What are ail these? 

Harold. 

Utopian idiotcies. 
They did not last three Junes. Such rampant weeds 
Strangle each other, die, and make the soil 
For Cc^sars, Oromwells, and Napoleons 
1^0 root their power in. I have freed myself 
From all such dreams, and some will say because 
I have inherited my Uncle. Let them. 
But — shamed of you, my Empress! I should prize 
The pearl of Beauty, even if I found it 
Dark with the soot of slums. 

Dora. 

But I can tell you. 
We Steers are of old blood, tho' we be fallen. 



THE PRO.MISK OF MAY. 11* 

See there our shield. {Foi?itmg to arms on mantel- 
piece.) For I have heard the Steers 
Had land in Saxon times; and your own name 
Of Harold sounds so English and so old 
I am sure you must be proud of it. 

Haeold. 

Not I! 

As yet I scarcely feel it mine. I took it 

For some thi-ee thousand acres. I have land now 

And wealth, and lay both at your feet. 

Dora. 

And what was 
Your name before? 

Harold. 
Come, come, my girl, enough 
Of this strange talk. I love you, and you me. 
True, I have held opinions, hold some still. 
Which you would scarce approve of; for all that, 
I am a man not prone to jealousies. 
Caprices, humors, moods; but very ready 
To make allowances, and mighty slow 
To feel offenses. Nay, I do believe 
1 could forgive — well, almost anything — 
And that more freely than your formal priest. 
Because I know more fully than he can 
What poor earth-worms are all and each of us. 
Here crawling in this boundless Nature. Dora, 
If marriage ever brought a woman happiness, 
1 doubt not I can make you happy. 



118 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

DOKA. 

You make me 
Happy already. 

Harold. 

And I never said 
As mucli before to any woman living. 

Dora. 

" No? 

Harold. 
No! by this true kiss, you are the first 
I ever have loved truly. [ They hiss each other, 

Eva (ivith a loild cry, ) 

Philip Edgar! 

Harold. 

The phantom cry! You — did yoii hear a cry? 

Dora. 

She must be crying out '' Edgar " in her sleep. 

Harold. 
Who must be crying out ^' Edgar '' in her sleep? 

Dora. 
Your pardon for a minute. She must be waked. 

Harold. 
Who must be waked? 

Dora. 

I am not deaf; you fright me. 
What ails you? 



the promise oe may. 119 

Harold. 
Speak. 

DOEA. 

You know her, Eva. 

Harold. 

Eva! 
[Eva opens the door and stands in the entry. 



She! 



Eva. 
Make her happy, then, and I forgive you. 

[^Falls dead. 

Dora. 
Happy! What? Edgar? Is it so? Can it be? 
They told me so. Yes, yes! I see it all now. 

she has fainted. Sister, Eva, sister! 
He is yours again — he will love you again; 

1 give him back to you again. Look up! 

One word, or do but smile! Sweet, do you hear me? 
[Puts her hand on Eva^s heart. 
There, there, the heart, God! — the poor young 

heart 
Broken at last — all still — and nothing left 
To live for. \_Falls on iody of her sister. 

Harold. 
Living . . . dead . . . She said " all still. 
Nothing to live for.^^ 

She —she knows me — now . . . 

{A paiose.) 



120 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

She knew me from the first, she juggled with me^ 
She hid this sister, told me she was dead— 
I have wasted pity on her— not dead now— 
No! acting, playing on me, both of them. 
They drag the river for her! no, not they! 
Playing on me — not dead now— a swoon — a scene- 
Yet — how she made her wail as for the dead ! 

Enter Milly. 

MiLLY. 

Please, Mister ^Arold— 

Harold (rotcghly.) 
Well? 

Milly. 

The owd man^s coomVl ageiin to 'issen, an^ wants 
To hev a word wi^ ye about the marriage. 



The what? 



Harold. 

Milly. 
The marriage. 

Harold. 

The marriage? 

Milly. 

Yeas, the marriage. 
Granny says marriages be maade i' 'eaven. 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 121 

Harold. 

She lies! They are made in Hell. Child, can't you 

see? 
Tell them to fly for a dootoi*. 

MiLLY. 

law— yeas. Sir! 
ril run fur 'im mysen. 

Harold. 

All silent there. 
Yes, death-like! Dead? I dare not look: if dead, 
Were it best to steal away, to spare myself, 
And her too, pain, pain, pain? 

My curse on all 
This world of mud, on all its idiot gleams 
Of pleasure, all the foul fatalities 
That blast our natural passions into pains! 

Enter Dobson. 

DoBSOiir. 

You, Master Hedgar, Harold, or whativer 
They calls ye, for I warrants that ye goas 
By haafe a scoor o' naames — out o' the chaumber. 

[Dragging him past the body. 

Harold. 

Not that way, man! Curse on your brutaJ SLiengib! 
I can not pass that way. 



122 THE PROMISE OF MAY. 

DOBSON. 

Out o' the chaumber! 
I'll mash tha into nowt. 

Harold. 

The mere wild beast! 

DOBSON. 

Out o' the chaumber, dang tha! 

Harold. 

Lout, churl, clown! 

[ While they are shouting and struggling Dora 
rises and comes hetxoeen them. 

Dora {to Dobson). 
Peace, let him be : it is the chamber of Death ! 
Sir, you are tenfold more a gentleman, 
A hundred times more worth a woman's love. 
Than this, this — but I waste no words upon him : 
His wickedness is like my wretchedness — 
Beyond all language. 

{To Harold.) 

You — you see her there! 
Only fifteen when first you came on her. 
And then the sweetest flower of all the wolds, 
So lovely in the promise of her May, 
So winsome in her grace and gayety. 
So loved by all the village people here. 
So happy in herself and in her home — 



THE FIIOMISE OF MAY. 133 

DoBSOi^ {agitated). 

Theer, theer! ha^ done. I can^t abeiir to see her. 

[Exit. 

Dora. 

A child, and all as trustful as a child! 
Five years of shame and suffering broke the heart 
That only beat for you; and he, the father. 
Thro' that dishonor which you brought uj)on us, 
Has lost his health, his eyesight; even his mind. 

Hakold {covering his face. ) 
Enough! 

DOEA. 

It seem\l so; only there was left 
A second daughter, and to her you came 
Veiling one sin to act another. 

Harold. 

No! 
You wrong me there! hear, hear me! I wish'd, if 
you — [Pause a. 

Dora. 
If I— 

Harold. 

Could love me, could be brought to love me 
As I loved you — 

Dora. 
What then? 



134 the promise of may. 

Harold. 

I wish'd, I hoped. 
To make, to make — 

Dora. 

What did you hope to make? 

Harold. 

'Twere best to make an end of my lost life. 
Dora, Dora! 

Dora. 

What did yon hope to make? 

Harold. 
Make^ make I I can not find the word — forgive it — 
Amends. 

Dora. 
For what? to whom? 

Harold. 

To him, to you! 
[Falling at her feet. 

Dora. 
To him ! to me! 

No, not wdth all your wealth, 
Your land, your life! Out in the fiercest storm 
That ever made earth tremble — he, nor I — 
The shelter of your roof — not for one moment — 
Nothing from you ! 
Sunk in the deepest pit of pauperism. 



THE PROMISE OF MAY. 125 

Pusli'd from all doors as if we bore the plague. 
Smitten with fever in the open field, 
J^aid famine-stricken at the gates of Death — 
Nothing from you ! 

But she there — her last word 
Forgave — and I forgive you. If you ever 
Forgive yourself, you are even lower and baser 
Than even I can well believe you. Go! 

\^He lies at Iter feet. Curtain falls. 



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MUNRO'S PUBLICATIONS. 



The Seaside Library-Pocket Edition. 



Persons who wish to purchase the following works In complete and un- 
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GEORGE MUNRO, Munro's Publishing House, 
P. O. Box 3761. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. 

{WTien ordering by mail please order by numbers.] 



LIST OF AUTHORS. 



Works by the author of ** Adclie's 
Husband." 

388 Addie's Husband ; or, Through 

Clouds to Sunshine 10 

504 My Poor Wife 10 

Works by the author of '* A Fatal 
Dower," 

S46 A Fatal Dower 10 

372 Phyllis' Probation. 10 

461 His Wedded Wife 20 

829 The Actor's Ward. - . 20 

Works by the author of ** A Great 
Mistake.'* 

244 A Great Mistake , SO 

588 Cherry , 10 

Works by the author of "A 
Woman's Love-Story." 



322 A Woman's Love-Story . 
677 Griselda. 



Mrs. Alexander's Works. 



5 The Admiral's Ward 20 

17 The Wooing O't 20 

62 The Executor 20 

189 Valerie's Fate 10 

2*29 Maid, Wife, or Widow ? 10 

236 Which Shall it Be? 20 

339 Mrs. Vereker's Courier Maid. . . 10 

490 A Second Life 20 

B64 At Bay 10 

m Beaton's Bargain SO 



797 Look Before You Leap 20 

805 The Freres. 1st half 20 

805 The Freres. 2d half 2# 

806 Her Dearest Foe. 1st half 20 

806 Her Dearest Foe. 2d half 20 

814 The Heritage of Langdale 20 

815 Ralph Wilton's Weird . , 10 

Alison's Works. 

194 " So Near, and Yet So Far I". . . 10 

278 For Life and Love 10 

481 The House That Jack Built.... 10 

F. Austey's Works. 

59 Vice Versa 20 

225 The Giant's Robe 20 

503 The Tinted Venus. A Farcical 

Romance 10 

819 AFallen Idol 2C 



B. M. Ballantyne's Works. 

89 The Red Eric...., 10 

95 The Fire Brigade 10 

96 Erling the Bold 10 

772 Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood 

Trader , 20 

S. Bariusr-Gonld's Works. 

787 Court Royal 20 

878 Little Tu'penny 10 

Basil's Works. 

344 " The Wearing of the GreeB " . 20 

547 A Coquette's Conquest 20 

585 A Drawn Game 9(J 



THE SEASIDE LIBRARY. 



Anne Beale's Works. 

188 Idonea 20 

199 The Fisher Village 10 

Walter Besant's Works. 

97 AU in a Garden Fair 80 

:37 Uncle Jack 10 

140 A Glorious Fortune 10 

l4iJ Love Finds the Way, and Other 

Stories. By Besant and Rice 10 

j;W Dorothy Forster 20 

824 In Luck at Last 10 

541 Uncle Jack , 10 

651 " Self or Bearer " 10 

882 Gliildren of Gibeon 20 

M. Betham-Ed wards' s Woikf 

273 Love and Mirage ; or, The Wait- 
ing on an Island 10 

579 The Flower of Doom, and Other 

Stories 10 

B94 Doctor Jacob 20 

William Black's Works. 

1 Yolande 20 

18 Sbandon Bells. 20 

21 Sunrise : A Story of These 

Times 20 

23 A Princess of Thule 20 

39 In Silk Attire 20 

44 Macleod of Dare 20 

49 That Beautiful Wretch 20 

50 The Strange Adventures of a 

Phaeton 20 

70 White Wings : A Yachting Ro- 
mance 10 

78 Madcap Violet 20 

81 A Daughter of Heth 20 

124 Til ree Feathers 20 

125 The Monarch of Mincing Lane. 20 

126 Kilmeuy , 20 

138 Green Pastures and Piccadilly. 20 
265 Judith Shakespeare: Her Love 

Affairs and Other Adventures 20 
472 The Wise Women of Inverness. 10 
627 WhitH Heather 20 

R-. D. Blackmore's Works. 

67 Lorua Doone. 1st half 20 

67 Lorna Doone. 2d half 20 

427 The Remarkable History of Sir 

Thomas Upmore, Bart.. M. P. 20 

615 Marv Anerley 20 

625 Erema; or, IMy Father's Sin... 20 

629 Cripps, tlie Carrier 20 

630 Oiudock Nowell. First half... 20 

630 Cradock iMowell. Second half. 20 

631 Cliristowell. A Dartmoor Tale 20 

632 ( lara Vaughan 20 

633 The IMaid of Sker. First half. 20 
633 The Maid of Sker. Second half 20 

636 Alice Lorraine. First half 20 

636 Alice Lorraine. Second half.. 20 

Miss M. E. Braddon's Works. 

35 Lady Audley's Secret 20 

56 Phantom Fortune 20 

74 Aurora Floyd 20 

HO Under the Red Flag 10 



153 The Golden Calf 20 

204 Vixen 30 

211 The Octoroon 10 

234 Barbara : or. Splendid Misery. . vO 

263 An Ishmaelite '20 

315 The Mistletoe Bough. Edited 

by Miss Braddon 20 

434 Wyllard's Weird 20 

478 Diavola; or. Nobody's Daugh- 
ter. Parti 20 

478 Diavola; or. Nobody's Daugh- 
ter. Part II 20 

480 Married in Haste. Edited by 

Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

487 Put to the Test. Edited l)y Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

488 Joshua Haggard's Daughter.. . . 20 

489 Rupert Godwin 20 

495 Mount Royal 20 

496 Only a Woman. Edited by Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

497 The Lady's Mile 20 

498 Only a Clod 20 

499 The Cloven Foot 20 

511 A Strange World 20 

515 Sir Jasper's Tenant 20 

524 Strangers and Pilgrims 20 

529 The Doctor's Wife 20 

542 Feuton's Quest 20 

541 Cut by the County; or, Grace 

Darnel , 10 

548 The Fatal Marriage, and The 

Shadow in the Corner 10 

549 Dudley Carleon; or. The Broth- 

er's Secret, and George CmuI- 
field's Journey 10 

552 Hostages to Foftvme 20 

553 Birds of Prey 20 

551 Charlotte's Inheritance. (Se- 
quel to " Birds of Prey '").... 20 

557 To the Bitter End 20 

559 Taken at the Flood 20 

560 Asphodel 20 

561 Just a I am; or, A Living Lie 20 

567 Dead ,\.en's Shoes 20 

570 John Marchmont's Legacv. ... 20 
618 The Mistletoe Bough. Christ- 
mas, 1885. Edited by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

840 One Thing Needful; or. The Pen- 
alty of Fate 20 

881 Mohawks 20 

Works by Charlotte M. Braenie, 
Author of "Dora Thorne." 

19 Her Mother's Sin 10 

51 Dora Thorne 20 

54 A J^roken W'edding-Ring 20 

68 A Queen Amongst Women 10 

69 Madoliu's Lover 20 

73 Redeemed bv Love 20 

76 Wife in Name Onlv 20 

79 Wedded and Parted 10 

92 Lord Lynne's Choice 10 

148 Thorns and Orange-Blossoms . 10 

190 Romance oi a Black Veil 10 

220 Which Loved Him Best?. ..... 10 

237 Repented at Leisure 20 

849 " Prince Charlie's Daughter " . 10 



POCKET EDITION. 



iif 



Charlotte M. Braeiiie's Works 

(CONTINUED). 

250 Sunshine and Roses; or, Di- 
ana's Discipline „ 10 

2;54 Tiie Wife's Secret, and Fair 

but False 10 

283 Tiie Sin of a Lifetime 10 

2Sr At War With Herself 10 

288 From Gloom to Sunlight 10 

291 Love's Wjirfare 10 

202 A Golden Heart 10 

2m The Shadow of a Sin , 10 

294 Hilda 10 

295 A Woman's War 10 

29iJ A Rose in Thorns 10 

297 Her Marriage Vow; or, Hilary's 

Follv 10 

299 The Fatal Lilies, aud A Bride 

from the Sea 10 

300 A Gilded Sin, and A Bridge of 

Love 10 

303 Ingiedew House, and More Bit- 

ter than Death 10 

304 In Cnpid's Net 10 

305 A Dead Heart, and Lady Gwen- 

doline's Dream 10 

306 A Golden Dawn, and Love for 

a Day , 10 

307 Two Kisses, and Like no Other 

Love 10 

308 Bevond Pardon. 20 

411 A Bitter Atonement 20 

433 My Sister Kate 10 

459 A Woman's Temptation 20 

460 Under a Shadow 20 

465 'I'he Earl's Atonement 20 

466 Between Two Loves 20 

467 A Struggle for a Ring ... 20 

469 Lady Darner's Secret 20 

470 Eveivn'sFoilv 20 

471 Tlirown on the World 20 

476 Between Two Sins 10 

516 Put Asunder; or. Lady Castle- 

maine's Divorce 20 

576 Her Martyrdom 20 

626 A Fair Mystery 20 

741 The Heiress of Hilldrop; or, 

The Romance of a Young 

Girl 20 

745 For Another's Sin; or, A Strug- 

gle for Love 20 

792 Set in Diamonds. 20 

821 The World Between Them 20 

853 A True Ma-dalen 20 

854 A Woman's Error 20 

Charlotte Bronte's "Works. 

15 Jane E.yre 20 

67 Shirley..... SO 

Ithoda Broughton's Works. 

86 Belinda 20 

101 Second Thoughts 20 

227 Nancy , 20 

645 Mrs. Smith of Longmains 10 

758 " Gooa-bye, Sweetheart 1" 20 

T65 Not Wisely, But Too WeD 20 

r67 Joan... 20 



768 Red as a Rose is She 5^ 

769 Cometh Up as a Flower 20 

862 Betty's Visions 10 

Mary E. Bryan's Works. 

731 The Bayou Bride 20 

857 Kildee; or. The Sphinx of the 

Red House. 1st half 20 

857 Kildee; or. 'J'he Sphinx of the 

Red House. 2d half 20 

Robert Buchanan's Works. 

145 " Storm- Beaten :" God and The 

Man 2C 

154 Annan Water 20 

181 The New Abelard 10 

398 Matt: A Tale of a Caravan.... 10 

646 The Master of the Mine 20 

Captain 5' red Burnaby's Works. 

375 ARide to Khiva 20 

384 On Horseback Through Asia 

Minor 20 

E. Fairfax Byrrne's Works. 

521 Entangled 20 

538 A Fair Country Maid 20 

Hall Caine's Works. 

445 The Shadow of a Crime 20 

520 She's All the World to Me 19 

Ro^a Noucliette Carey's Works. 

215 Not Like Other Girls 20 

396 Robert Ord's Atonement 20 

551 Ban -araHeathcote's Trial 20 

608 ForLilias 20 

liCwis Carroll's Works. 
462 Alice's Adventures in Wonder- 
land. Illustrated by John 

Tenniel 20 

789 Through the Looking-Glass, 
and What Ahce Found There. 
Illustrated by John Tenniel.. 20 

Mrs. H. liovett Cameron's Works. 

595 A North Country Maid 20 

796 In a Grass Country 20 

Wilkie Collins's Works. 

E2 The New Magdalen 10 

102 The Moonstone 20 

167 Heart and Science 20 

168 No Thoroughfare. By Dickens 

and Collins ... 10 

175 Love's Random Shot, and Other 

Stories 10 

233 " I Say No;" or, The Love-Let- 

ter Answered.. 20 

508 The Girl at the Gate 10 

591 The Queen of Hearts 20 

613 The Ghost's Touch, and Percy 

and the Prophet IC 

623 Mv Lo.d v's Monev 10 

701 The Woman in Whit6. 1st half 20 
701 The Womnti in White. 2d half 20 

:02 Man and Wife. 1st half 2f' 

70.' Man .in(i Wife. 2d iiaif iO 

76i The Evil Genius SO 



tv 



THE SEASIDE LIBKARY. 



Mabel Collins's Works. 

749 Lord Vanecourt's Daughter.... 20 
828 The Prettiest Woman in Warsaw 20 

Hugh Conway's Works, 

240 Called Back 10 

251 The Daughter of the Stars, and 

Other Tales 10 

301 Dark Days 10 

302 The Blatcliford Bequest 10 

502 Carriston's Gift 10 

525 Paul Vargas, and Other Stories 10 

543 A Family Affair 20 

601 Slings and Arrows, and Other 

Stories 10 

711 A Cardinal Sin 20 

804 Liviug or Dead 20 

830 Bound by a SpeU 20 

J. Fenimore Cooper's Works. 

60 The Last of the Mohicans 20 

63 The Spy 20 

309 The Pathfinder 20 

SIO The Prairie 20 

818 The Pioneers; or, The Sources 

of the Susquehanna 20 

349 The Two Admirals 20 

359 The Water-Witch 20 

861 The Red Rover 20 

373 Wing and Wing 20 

378 Homeward Bound; or. The 

Chase 20 

379 Home as Found. (Sequel ta 

'* Homeward Bound") 20 

380 Wyandotte ; or, The Hutted 

Knoll 20 

385 The Headsman ; or. The Ab- 

bave des Vignerons 20 

394 The Bravo 20 

397 Lionel Lincoln; or. The Leag- 
uer of Boston 20 

400 The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish. . . 20 

413 Afloat and Ashore 20 

414 Miles Wallingford, (Sequel to 

" Afloat and Ashore ") 20 

415 The Ways of the Hour 20 

416 Jack Tier; or. The Florida Reef 20 

419 TheChainbearer; or,TheLittle- 

pagre Manuscripts 20 

420 Sataustoe; or, The Littlepage 

Manuscripts 20 

421 The Redskins; or, Indian and 

Injin. Being the conclusion 
of the Littlepage Manuscripts 20 

422 Precaution 20 

42;i The Sea Lions; or. The Lost 

Sealers 20 

424 Mercedes of Castile; or, The 

Voyage to Cathay 20 

425 The Oak-Openings; or. The Bee- 

Hunter 20 

481 TheMonikins 20 

Georgiana M. Craik's Works. 

450 Godfrey Helstono 20 

C06 Mrs. Hollyer 20 



B. M. Croker's Works, 

207 Pretty Miss Neville 20 

260 Proper Pride 10 

412 Some One Else 20 

May Cromnielin's Works. 

452 In the West Countrie 20 

619 Jov ; or, The Light of Cold- 

Home Ford 20 

647 Goblin Gold..„ 10 

Alpliouse Daudet's VVoi'ks. 

534 Jack 20 

574 The Nabob: AStory of Parisian 

Life and Manners 20 

Charles Dickens's Works. 

10 The Old Curiositv Shop 20 

22 David Copperfield. Vol. 1 20 

22 David Copperfield. Vol. IL... 20 

24 Pickwick Papers. Vol. 1 20 

24 Pickwick Papers. Vol. II 20 

37 Nicholas Nickieby. First half. 20 
37 Nicholas Nickieby. Second half 20 

41 Oliver Twist 20 

77 A Tale of Two Cities 20 

84 Hard Times 10 

91 Barnaby Rndge. 1st half 20 

91 Barnaby Rudge. 2d half 20 

94 Little Dorrit. First half 20 

94 Little Dorrit. Second half 20 

106 Bleak House. First half 20 

106 Bleak House. Second half.... 20 

107 Dombey and Son. 1st half 20 

107 Dombey and Son. 2d half 20 

108 Tlie Cricket ou the Hearth, and 

Doctor Marigold 10 

131 Our Mutual Friend. (1st half). 20 

131 Our Mutual Friend. (2d half).. 20 

132 Master Humphrey's Clock 10 

152 The Uncommercial Ti-aveler. .. 20 

168 No Thoroughfare. By Dickens 

and Collins — 10 

169 The Haunted Man 10 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 

Chuzzlewit. First half 20 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 

Chuzzlewit. Second half 20 

439 Great Expectations 20 

440 Mrs. Lirriper's Lodgings 10 

447 American Notes 20 

448 Pictures From Italy, and The 

IMudfog Papers. &c 20 

454 The Mystery of Edwin Drood.. 20 
456 Sketches bv Boz. Illustrative 
of Every -day Life and Every- 
day People 20 

676 A Child's History of England. 20 

Sai'ah Doinluey's WoHis. 

3:38 The Family Difficulty 10 

679 Where Two Ways Meet 10 

F. Du Boisgobey's Works. 

82 Sealed Lips 20 

104 The Coral Pin. 1st half 20 

104 The Coral Pin. 2d half 20 

264 Pi6douche, a French Detective. IC 



POCKET EDITION. 



828 



453 

<i?5 
522 

523 

648 
C97 



V. Du Boisgobey's Works 

(continued). 

Babiole, the Pretty Milliner, 
First half 

Babiole, the Prettj^ Milliner. 
Second half 

The Lottery Ticket 

The Prima Donna's Husband., 
or. The 



Zig-Zag, the Clown; 
Steel Gauntlets 



782 
782 
851 
851 



14 
16 
25 
29 
30 
118 

119 
123 

129 
13^1 

136 

166 
171 

284 
312 

842 



404 



486 
494 



541 
738 

771 
785 
862 
«75 



The Consequences of a Duel. A 
Parisian Romance 

The Angel of the Bells 

The Pretty Jailer. 1st half. . . . 

The Pretty Jailer. 2d half. .... 

The Sculptor's Daughter. 1st 
half 

The Sculptor's Daughter. 2d 
half 

The Closed Door. 1st half 

The Closed Door. 2d half 

The Cry of Blood. 1st half. . . . 

The Cry of Blood. 2d half 

"The Duchess's" Works. 

Molly Bavvu 

Portia 

Airy Fairy Lilian 

PhylHs 

Mrs. Geoffrey 

Beauty's Daughters 

Faith and Unf ai th 

Loys, Lord Berresford, and 

Eric Dering 

Monica, and A Rose Distill'd. .. 

Sweet is True Love 

Rossmoyne 

Tlie Witching Hour, and Other 

Stories 

"That Last Rehearsal," and 

Other Stories 

Moonshine and Marguerites — 
Fortune's Wheel, and Other 

Stoi'ies 

Doris 

A Week's Anmsement; or, A 

Week in Killarney 

The Baby, and One New fear's 

Eve 

Mildred Trevanion 

In Durance Vile, and Other 

Stories 

Dick's Sweetheart 

A Maiden All Forlorn, and Bar- 
bara 

A Passive Crime, and Other 

Stories 

"As It Fell Upon a Day." 

Lady Branksniere 

A Mental Struggle 

The Haunted Chamber 

Ugly Barrington 

Lady Valworth's Diamonds — 

Aiexauder Dumas's Works. 



20 



55 The Three Guardsmen. 
T5 Twenty Years After. . . 



20 



259 The Bride of Monte-Cristo. A 
Sequel to "The Count of 
Monte-Cristo " 1« 

262 The Count of Monte-Cristo. 

Part I ?.0 

262 The Count of Monte-Cristo. 

Part II 20 

717 Beau Tancrede; or. The Mar- 
riage Verdict 20 

Maria Edgeworth's Works. 

708 Ormond 20 

788 The Absentee. An Irish Story. 20 

Mrs. Annie Edwards's Works. 

644 AGirton Girl 20 

834 A Ballroom Repentance 20 

835 Vivian the Beauty 20 

836 A Point of Honor 20 

837 A Vagabond Heroine 10 

838 Ought We to Visit Her? 20 

839 Leah: A Woman of Fashion... 20 

841 Jet: Her Face or Her Fortune? 10 

842 A Blue-Stocking 10 

843 Archie Lovell 20 

844 Susan Fielding 20 

845 Philip Earnscliffe; or. The Mor- 

als of May Fair 20 

846 Ste\eu Lawrence. First half. 20 
846 Steven Lawrence. Second half 20 
850 A Playwright's Daughter 10 

George Eliot's Works. 

3 The Mill on the Flos.s 20 

31 Middlemarch. 1st half 20 

31 Middlemarch. 2d half . . ^ 

34 Daniel Derouda. 1st half 20 

34 Daniel Deronda. 2d half 2y) 

36 Adam Bede 20 

42 Romola 20 

693 Felix Holt, the Radical 20 

707 Silas Maruer: The Weaver of 

Raveloe 10 

728 Janet's Repentance Itt 

763 Impressions of Theophrastus 

Such 10 

B. lio Farjeon's Works. 

179 Little Make-Believe 10 

573 Love's Harvest 20 

607 Self-Doomed 10 

616 The Sacred Nugget .. 20 

657 Christmas Angel 10 

G. Manville Feun's Works, 

193 The Rosery Folk 10 

558 Poverty Corner 20 

587 The Parson o' Dumford 20 

609 The Dark House 10 

Octave Feuillet's Works, 
66 The Romance of a Poor Young 

Man 10 

386 Led Astray; or, "La Petite 

Comtesse " 10 

JJIrs. Forrester's Works. 

80 June 20 

280 Omnia Vauitas. A Tale of So- 
. cietir 19 



THE SEASIDE LIBRARY. 



Mrs. Forrester's Works 

(continued). 

484 Although He Was a Lord, and 

Other Tales 10 

715 I Have Lived and Loved 20 

721 Dolores 20 

724 IMy Lord and My Lady 20 

726 Mv Hero 20 

727 Fair Women 20 

729 Mignon 20 

73^ From Olympus to Hades 20 

734 Viva 20 

736 Roy and Viola 20 

740 Rhona 20 

744 Diana Carew; or, For a Wom- 
an's Sake 20 

883 Once Again 20 

Jessie Jb'othergili's Works. 

314 Peril..., 20 

572 Healey 20 

R. E. Francillou's Works. 

135 A Great Heiress: A Fortune 

in Seven Checks 10 

819 Face to Face : A Fact in Seven 

Fables 10 

360 Ropes of Sand 20 

656 The Golden Flood. By R. E. 

Francillon and Wm. Senior.. 10 

Emile Gaboriau's Works. 

7 File No. 113 -« 20 

12 Other People's Money 20 

20 Within an Inch of His Life 20 

26 Monsieur Lecoq. Vol 1 20 

26 Monsieur Lecoq. Vol. H 20 

M3 Tlie Clique of Gold 10 

38 Tlie Widow Lerouge 20 

43 The Mystery of Orcival 20 

144 Promises of Marriage 10 

Charles Gibbon's Works. 

64 A Maiden Fair 10 

317 By Mead and Stream 20 

James Grant's Works. 

566 The Royal Highlanders ; or, 

The Black Watch in Egypt... 20 
781 The Secret Dispatch 10 

Miss Grant's Works. 

222 The Sun-Maid 20 

555 Cara Roma 20 

Arthur Griffiths's Works. 

614 No. 99 10 

680 Fast and Loose 20 

H. Rider Haggard's Works. 

432 The Witch's Head 20 

753 King Solomon's Mines* 20 

Thomas Hardy's Works. 

139 The Romantic Adventures of 

a Milkmaid 10 

530 A Pair or Blue Eyes 20 

690 Far From tlie IMaddine: Crowd. 20 
791 The Mayor of Casterbridge... . 20 



John B. Harwood's Works. 

143 One False, Both Fair 20 

358 Within the Clasp 20 

Mary Cecil Hay's Works. 

65 Back to the Old Home 10 

72 Old Myddelton's Money 20 

196 Hidden Perils 10 

197 For Her Dear Sake 20 

224 The Arundel Motto 20 

881 The Squire's Legacy 20 

290 Nora's Love Test 20 

408 Lester's Secret 20 

678 Dorothy's Venture 20 

716 Victor and Vanquished 20 

849 A Wicked Girl 20 

Mrs. Cashel-Hoey's Works. 

313 The Lover's Creed 20 

802 A Stern Chase 20 

Tighe Hopkins's Works, 

509 Nell Haflfeuden 20 

714 'Twixt Love and Duty 20 

Works by the Author of "Judith 
Wynne." 

332 Judith W.v une 20 

506 Lady Lovelace 20 

William H. G. Kingston's Works. 

nr A Tale of the Shore and Ocean. 20 

133 Peter the Whaler 10 

701 Will VVeatherlielm 20 

76.ii The Midshipman, Marmaduke 

Merry 20 

Vernon I^ee's Works. 

399 Miss Brown 20 

859 Ottiiie: An Eighteenth Century 
Idyl. Bv Vernon Lee. The 
Pri 1 1 ce of the 100 Soups. Edit- 
ed by Vernon Lee 90 

Charles Lever's Works. 

191 Harry Lorrequer 20 

212 Charles O'Malley. the Irish Dra- 
goon. First half 20 

21-^ Charles O'Malley, the Irish Dra- 
goon. Second half 20 

243 Tom Burke of " Ours." First 

half 20 

•43 Tom Burke of "Ours." Sec- 
ond half 20 

Mary Linskill's Works. 

473 ALostSon 20 

620 Between the Heather and the 
Northern Sea 20 

Mrs. £. Tiynn Liinton's Works. 

122 lone Stewart 20 

817 Stabbed in the Dark 10 

Samuel liOver's Work?. 

663 Handy Andy *. . 20 

664 Rory O'More.... 80 



POCKET EDITIOK. 



vii 



Sir E. Bulwer Lytton's Works. 

40 The Last Days of Pompeii 20 

83 A Strange Story 20 

90 Ernest Maltravers 20 

130 Tlie Last of the Barons. First 

half 20 

130 The Last of the Barons. Sec- 
ond half 20 

162 Eugene Aram 20 

164 Leila; or, TiieSiegre of Grenada 10 
650 Alice: or, The Mysteries. (A Se- 
quel to " Ernest Maltravers ") 20 
720 Paul Clifford 20 

George Macdouald's Works. 

282 Donal Grant 20 

325 The Portent 10 

326 Phantasfes. A Faerie Romance 

for Men and Women 10 

722 What's Mine's Mine 20 



E. Marlitt's Works. 

652 The Lady with the Rubies. 
858 Old Ma'm'selle's Secret. . . . 



159 
183 



276 
444 
449 



Florence Marry at' s Works. 

A Moment of Madness, and 

Other Stories 10 

Old Contrairy, and Other 

Stories 10 

The Ghost of Charlotte Cray, 

and Other Stories 10 

Under the Lilies and Roses 10 

The Heart of Jane Warner 20 

Peeress and Player 20 

The Heir Presumptive 20 

The Master Passion 20 

Her Lord and Master 20 



Justin McCarthy's Works. 



825 
860 

861 My Sister the Actress 20 

863 -' ~ 
864 



' My Own Child." 

" No Intentions." 20 

865 Written in Fire 20 

866 Miss Harrington's Husband... 20 

867 The Gi ils of Fe versham 20 

868 Petronel 20 

869 The Poison of Asps 10 

870 Out of His Reckoning 10 

^72 With Cupid's Eves 20 

87S A Harvest of Wildcats 20 

877 Facing the Footlights 20 

Captain Marryat's Works. 

88 ThePrivateersman 20 

272 The Little Savage 10 

Helen B. Mathers's Works. 

13 Eyre's Acquittal 10 

221 Comin' Thro' the Rye 20 

438 Found Out 10 

535 Murder or Manslaughter? 10 

673 Storv of a Sin 20 

713 "CiierrvRipe" 20 

795 Sam's Sweetheart 20 

H Tiift Fasliion of tlrs World 10 

J99 ji£y Lady Green Sleeves 20 



20 



121 Maid of Athens 

602 Camiola 20 

685 England Under Gladstone. 

1880—1885 20 

747 Our Sensation Novel. Edited 

by Justin H. McCarthy, M.P. . 10 
779 Doom! An Atlantic Episode. .. 10 

Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller's 
Works. 

267 Laurel Vane; or, The Girls' 

Conspiracy 30 

268 Lady Gay's Pride; or, The 

Miser's Treasure 20 

269 Lancaster's Choice 20 

316 Sworn to Silence; or. Aline 

Rodney's Secret 20 

Jean Middlemas's Works. 

155 Lady Muriel's Secret 

539 Silvermead 



20 



Alan Muir's Works. 



172 "Golden Girls" 20 

346 Tumbledown Farm 10 

Miss ]>[ulock's Works* 

11 John Halifax, Gentleman 20 

245 Miss Tommy, and In a House- 
Boat 10 

808 King Arthur, Not a Love Story 20 

David Christie Murray's Works. 

58 By the Gate of the Sea 10 

195 " The Way of the World " 20 

320 A Bit of Human Nature "10 

661 Rainbow Gold 20 

674 First Person Singular 20 

691 Valentine Strange 20 

695 Hearts: Qiieen, Knave, and 

Deuce 20 

698 A Life's Atonement . 20 

737 Aunr Rachel 10 

826 Cynic Fortune 20 

Works by the author of "My 
Ducats and My Daughter.'* 

376 The Crime of Christmas Day. 10 
596 My Ducats and My Daughter... 20 

W. E. Norris's Works. 

184 ThirlbyHall 20 

277 A Man of His Word 10 

355 That Terrible Man 10 

500 Adrian Vidal 20 

824 Her Own Doing 10 

848 My Friend Jim 10 

871 A Bachelor's Blunder 20 

Laurence Oliphant's Works. 

47 AltloraPeto 20 

537 Piccadilly 10 



viii 



THE SEASIDE LIBRAKY. 



Mrs. Oliphant's Works. 

45 A Little Pilgrim 10 

177 Salem Chapel 20 

205 The Minister's Wife 30 

821 The Prodigals, and Their In- 
heritance 10 

337 Memoirs and Resolutions of 
Adam Graeme of Mossgray, 
including some Chronicles of 

the Borough of Fendie 20 

345 Madam 20 

351 The House on the Moor 20 

357 John 20 

370 Lucy Crofton 10 

371 Margaret Maitland 20 

377 Magdalen Hepburn : A Story of 

tiie Scottish Reformation 20 

402 Lilliesleaf ; or, Passages in the 
Life of Mrs Margaret Mait- 
land of Sunny side 20 

410 Old Lady Mary 10 

527 The Da^■s of My Life 20 

528 At His G:ites 20 

568 Tiie Perpetual Curate 20 

569 Harry Muir 20 

603 Agnes. 1st half 20 

603 Agnes. 2d half 20 

604 Irmocent. 1st half 20 

604 Innocent. 2d half 20 

605 Ombra 20 

645 ( )hver's Bride 10 

655 The Open Door,and The Portrait 10 

687 A Country Geiitieman 20 

703 A House Divided Against Itself 20 
710 The Greatest Heiress in England 20 

827 Effie Ogilvie 20 

880 The Sou of His Father 20 

♦* Ouida's " Works, 

4 Under Two Flags 20 

9 Wanda, Countess von Szalras.. 20 

116 Moths 20 

128 Afternoon and Other Sketches. 10 

226 Friendship 20 

228 Princess Napraxine 20 

238 Pascarel 20 

239 Signa.. 20 

433 A Rainy June 10 

639 Othmar 20 

671 Don Gesualdo 10 

672 In Maremma. First half 20 

672 In Maremma. Second half 20 

874 A House Party 10 

James Payn's Works. 

48 Thicker Tlian Water 20 

186 Tiie Canon's Ward 20 

343 The Talk of the Town 20 

577 In Peril and Privation 10 

589 The Luck of the Darrells 20 

823 The Be.v' of the Apes , . . . gO 

Rliss Jane Porter's Works. 
660 The Scottish Chiefs. 1st half. . 20 
660 The Scottish Chiefs. 2d half.. 20 

696 Thaddeus of Warsaw 20 

Cecit Power's Works. 

836 Philistia 20 

Ml Babylon gO 



Mrs. Canipbeli Praed's Works. 

428 Zero: A Story of Monte-Carlo. iO 
477 Affinities 10 

811 The Head Station 20 

Eleanor C. Price's Works. 

173 The Foreigners 20 

331 Gerald.. 20 

Charles Reade's Wof ks. 

46 Very Hard Cash 20 

98 A Woman-Hater 20 

206 The Picture, and Jack of All 

Trades 10 

210 Readiana: Comments on Cur- 
rent Events 10 

213 A Terrible Temptation 20 

214 Put Yourself in His Place 20 

216 Foul Play 20 

231 Griffith Gaunt; or, Jealousy... 20 

232 Love and Mouej-; or, A Perilous 

Secret 10 

235 "It is Never Too Late to 
Mend." A Matter- of -Fact Ro- 
mance 20 

Mrs. J. H. liiddelPs Works. 

71 A Struggle for Fame 20 

593 Berna Boyle 29 

"Rita's" Works, 

252 A Sinless Secret 10 

446 Dame Durden 20 

598 " Corinna." A Study 10 

617 Like Dianas Kiss 20 

F. W. Robinson's Works. 

157 Millv'sHero 20 

217 The Man She Cared For 20 

261 A Fair Maid 20 

455 Lazarus in London 20 

590 Tiie Courting of Mary Smith. . . 20 

W. Clark Russell's Works. 

85 A Sea Queen 20 

109 Little Loo 20 

ISO Round the Gallev Fire 10 

209 John Holdsworth. Chief Mate.. 10 

223 A Sailor's Sweetheart 20 

592 A Strange Vo vage 20 

682 In the Middle Watch. Sea 

Storios 20 

743 Jack's Courtship. 1st half 20 

743 Jack's Courtship. 2d half 20 

Adeline Sergeant's Works. 
257 Beyond Recall 10 

812 No Saint 20 

Sir Walter Scott^s Works. 

28 Ivanhoe 20 

201 The Monastery 2C 

202 The Ahbot. (Sequel to "The 

Monnstet-y ") 20 

353 The Black Dwarf, and A Le- 
gend of Montrose ., 9i 

362 Th<> Bride of Lammermoor, . .. 9U 

363 'I'he Sui-geon\s Daughter t'J 

364 Castle Dangerous 10 



POCKET EDITION. 



ix 



8ii' Walter Scott's Works 

(continued^. 
891 The Heart of Mid-Lothian 20 

392 Peveril of the Peak -. 20 

393 The Pirate 20 

401 Waverley 20 

417 The Fair Maid of Perth; or, St. 

Valentine's Day 20 

418 St. Ronan's AVell 20 

463 Redgaiintlet. A Tale of the 

Eighteenth Century 20 

507 Chronicles of the Canongate, 
and Other Stories 10 

William Sime's Works. 

429 Boulderstone ; or, New Men and 

Old Populations 10 

580 The Red Route 20 

597 Ilaco the Dreamer 10 

649 Cradle and Spade 20 

Hawley Smart's Works, 

348 From Post to Finish. A Racing 

Romance 20 

367 Tie and Trick 20 

550 Struck Down 10 

847 Bad to Beat 10 

Frank E. Smedley's Works. 

333 Frank Fairlegh; or, Scenes 
from the Ldfe of a Private 
Pupil 20 

562 Lewis Arundel; or, The Rail- 
road of Life 20 

T. W^. Speight's Works. 

150 For Himself Alone. 10 

653 A Barren Title 10 

Robert Liouis Stevenson's Works. 

686 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and 

Mr. Hyde 10 

704 Prince Otto 10 

832 Kidnapped 20 

855 The Dynamiter 20 

856 New Arabian Nights .20 

Julian Stiirgis's Works. 

405 My Friends and I. Edited by 

Julian Sturgis 10 

694 John Maidment 20 

Eugene Sue's Woi'ks, 

270 The Wandering Jew. Part I... 20 

270 The Wandering Jew. Part H. . 20 

271 The Mysteries of Paris. Part L 20 
271 The Mysteries of Paris. PartH. 20 

George Temple's Works. 

599 I<ancelot Ward, M.P 10 

642 Britta 10 

William M. Thackeray's Works. 

27 Vanity Fair 20 

165 The History of Henry Esmond. 20 

464 The Newcomes. Part 1 20 

464 The Newcomes. Part H 20 

670 The Rose and the Ring, Illus- 
trated 10 



Works by the Author of "The 
Two Miss Flemings." 

637 What's His Offence? >20 

780 Rare Pale Margaret. 20 

784 The Two Miss Flemings . . 20 

831 Pomegranate Seed 20 

Annie Thomas's Works. 

141 She Loved Him! 10 

142 Jenifer 20 

565 No Medium 10 

Anthony Trollope's Works. 

32 The Land Leaguers 20 

93 Anthony TroUope's Autobiog- 
raphy .... 20 

147 Rachel Ray 20 

200 An Old Man's Love 10 

531 The Prime Minister. 1st half. . 20 
531 The Prime Minister. 2d half... 20 

621 The Warden 10 

622 Harry Heathcote of Gangroil. . . 10 
667 The Golden Lion of Granpere.. 20 

700 Ralph the Heir. 1st half 20 

700 Ralph the Heir. 2d half 29 

775 The Three Clerks 20 

Margaret Veley's ^Vorks, 

298 Mitchelhurst Place 10 

586 " For Percival " 20 

Jules Verne's Works. 

87 Dick Sand; or, A Captain at 
Fifteen 20 

100 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas. 20 

368 The Southern Star; or, the Dia- 
mond Land 20 

395 The Archipelago on Fire 10 

578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated. 

Part I ...- 10 

578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated, 

Part II 10 

578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated. 

Part III 10 

659 The Waif of the " Cynthia "... '.^0 

751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 
gators. First half 20 

751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 
gators. Second half 20 

833 Ticket No. " 9672," First half. . 10 

li. B. Walford's Works. 

241 The Baby's Grandmother 10 

256 Mr. Smith : A Part of His Life. 20 

258 Cousins 20 

658 The History of a Week lO 

F. Warden's Works. 

192 At the World's Mercy 10 

248 The House on the Marsh 10 

286 Deldee ; or. The Iron Hand .... 20 

482 A Vagrant Wife 20 

.556 A Prince of Darkness 20 

820 Doriss Fortune 10 



THE SEASIDE LIBRARY. 



William Ware's Works. 

709 Zenobia; or. The Fall of Pal- 
myra. 1st half 20 

709 Zenobia; or, The Fall of Pal- 
myra. 2d half 20 

760 Aurelian; or, Rome in the Third 
Century 20 

E. Werner's Works, 

827 Raymond's Atonement 20 

640 AtaHigh Price 20 

fi.'J. Wbyte-Melville's Works. 

409 Roy's Wife 20 

451 Market Harborough, and Inside 
the Bar 20 

John Strange Winter's Works. 

492 Mignon ; or, Booties' Baby. D- 

lustrated 10 

600 Honp-La. Illustrated 10 

638 In Quarters with the 25th (The 

Bliick Horse) Dragoons 10 

688 A Man of Honor. Ilhisirated.. 10 
746 Cavalry Life: or. Sketches and 

Stories in Barracks and Out. . 20 
813 Army Society. Life in a Gar- 
rison Town. 10 

818 Pluck 10 

876 Jlignon's Secret. ...... = . 10 

Mrs. Henry Wood's Works. 
8 East Lynne 20 

255 TheMvstery 20 

277 The Surgeon's Daughters 10 

508 The Unlioly Wish 10 

513 Helen Whitney's Wedding, and 

Other Tales 10 

514 The Mystery of Jessy Page, and 

Other Tales 10 

610 The Story of Dorothy Grape, 

and Other Tales 10 

Charlotte M. Yonge's Works. 

247 The Armourer's Prentices 10 

275 The Three Brides 10 

535 Henrietta's Wish; or, Domi- 
neering 10 

563 The Two Sides of the Shield.... 20 
640 Nnttie's Father 20 

665 The Dove in the Eagle's Nest.. 20 

666 My Young Alcides: A Faded 

Photograph 20 

739 The Caged Lion .. 20 

742 Love and Life 20 

783 Chantry House 20 

790 The Chaplet of Pearls; or. The 

White and Black Ribaumont. 

First half 20 

790 ITae Chaplet of Pearls; or, The 

White and Mlack Ribaumout. 

Second half 20 

800 Hopes and Fears; or, Scenes 

from the Life of a Spinster. 

First half 20 

WO Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 

from the Life of a Spinster. 

Second half.... 20 



Miscellaueons. 

53 The Story of Ida. Francesca. 10 
61 Charlotte Temple. Mrs. Row- 
son iO 

99 Barbara's History. Amelia B. 

Edwards 20 

103 Rose Fleming. Dora Russell.. 10 
105 A Noble Wife. John Saunders 20 

111 The Little School-master Mark. 

J. H.Shorthouse 10 

112 The Waters of Marah. John 

Hill 20 

113 Mrs. Carr's Companion. M. G. 

Wightwick 10 

114 Some of Our Girls. Mrs. C. J. 

Eiloart 20 

115 Diamond Cut Diamond. T. 

Adolphus TroUope 10 

120 Tom Brown's School Days at 

Rugby. Thomas Hughes 20 

127 Adrian Bright. Mrs. Cuddy .... 20 
149 The Captain's Daughter. From 

the Russian of Pushkin 10 

151 The Ducie Diamonds. C. Blath- 

erwick 10 

156 "For a Dream's Sake." Mrs. 

Heibert Martin 20 

158 The Starling. Norman Mac- 

leod, D.D 10 

160 Her Gentle Deeds. Sarah Tytler 10 

161 The Lady of Lyons. Founded 

on the Play of that title by 

Lord Lytton 10 

163 Winifred Power. Joyce Dar- 

rell 20 

170 A Great Treason. Mary Hop- 

pus 30 

174 Under a Ban. Mrs. Lodge 20 

176 An April Day. Philippa Prifc- 

tie Jephson 10 

178 More Leaves from the Journal 

of a Life in the Highlands. 

Queen Victoria 10 

182 The Millionaire 20 

185 Dita. Lady JMargaretMajendie 10 
187 The Midnight Sun. Fredrika 

Bremer 10 

198 A Husband's Story 10 

203 John Bull and His Island. Max 

ORell 10 

218 Agnes Sorel. G. P. R. James. . 20 

219 Lady Clare : or. The Master of 

theFoi-ges. Georees Oimet 10 
242 The Two Orphans. DEnnery. 10 
253 The Amazon. Carl Vosmaer. . 10 
266 The Water-Babies. Rev. Chas. 

Kingsley 10 

274 Alice. Grand Duchess of Hesse, 
Princess of Great Britain and 
Ireland. Biographical Sketch 

and Letters 10 

279 Little Goldie: A Story of Wom- 
an's Love. Mrs. Sumner Hay- 
den SO 

285 The Gambler's Wife 20 

289 Jolui Bull's Neighbor in Her 
True Light. A " Brutal Sax- 
on " «.,.f .. 10 



POCITET EDITION. 



Miscellaneous— Continued. 

Sil Two Years Before the Mast. R. 

H. Dana, Jr 20 

323 A Willful Maid 20 

329 The Polisli Jew. (Translated 

from tlie French by Caroline 
A. Merij^hi.) Erckinaiin Chat- 
rian 10 

330 May Blossom ; or, Between Two 

Loves. Margaret Lee 20 

334 A Marriage of Convenience. 

Harriett Jay 10 

835 The White Witch 20 

UO Under Which King? Compton 

Reade 20 

341 Madolin Rivers; or. The Little 

Beauty of Red Oak Seminary. 

Laii ra Jean Libbev 20 

347 As Avon Flows. Henry Scott 

Vince 20 

350 Diana of the Crossways. George 

Meredith 10 

352 At Any Cost Edward Garrett. 10 
:!54 Tlie Lotterv of Life. A Story 
of New York Twenty Years 
Ago. John Brougham...... 20 

355 The Princess Dagomar of Po- 

land. Heinrich Felbermann. 10 

356 A Good Hater. Frederick Boyle 20 
365 George Cinisty ; or, The Fort- 
unes of a Minstrel. Tony 
Pastor ,\ 20 

866 The Mvsterious Hunter; or, 

The Man of Death. Capt. L. 

C. Carleton 20 

369 Miss Bretherton. Mrs. Hum- 

phrv Ward 10 

874 The t)ead Man's Secret. Dr. 

Jupiter Paeon 20 

351 Tiie Red Cardinal. Frances 

Elliot 10 

382 Tliree Sisters. Elsa D'Esterre- 

Keeling 10 

383 Introduced to Society. Hamil- 

ton Aid6 10 

387 The Secret of the Cliffs. Char- 
lotte P'rench 20 

889 Ichabod. A Portrait. Bertha 

Thomas 10 

403 An English Squire. C. R. Cole- 
ridge 20 

406 The Merchant's Clerk. Samuel 

Warren 10 

407 Tylney Hall. Thomas "Bond. .. 20 
420 Venus's Doves. Ida Ashworth 

Taylor 20 

430 A Bitter Reckoning. Author 

of "By Crooked Paths".... 10 
435Klytia: A Story of Heidelberg 

Castle. George Taylor 20 

436 StHJla. Fan!iv Lewaid 20 

441 A Sea Chnnge. Flora L. Shaw. 20 

442 Rjinthorpe. George Ilenrv 

Lewes 20 

443 The Bachelor of the Albany... 10 
457 The Russians at the Gates of 

Herat. Charles Maivin 10 



458 A Week of Passion ; or, The 
Dilemma of Mr. George Bar- 
ton the Younger. Edward 
Jenkins 20 

468 The Fortunes, Good and Bad, 
of a Sewing-Girl. Charlotte 
M. Stanley 10 

474 Serapis. An Historical Novel. 

George Ebers 20 

479 Louisa. Katharine S. Macquoid 20 

483 Betwixt Mv Love and Me, By 

author of "A Golden Bar "... 10 

485 Tinted Vapours. J. Maclaren 

Cobban 10 

491 Society in London. A Foreign 

Resident 10 

493 Colonel Enderby's Wife. Lucas 

Malet 20 

501 Mr. Butler's Ward. F. Mabel 

Robinson 20 

504 Curly: An Actor's Story. John 

Coleman '. ]0 

505 The Society of Loudon. Count 

Paul Vasili 10 

510 A Mad Love. Author of " Lover 

and Lord " 10 

512 The Waters of Hercules 20 

518 The Hidden Sin 'M 

519 James Gordon's Wife 2© 

526 Madame De Presnel. E. Fian- 
ces Povnter 20 

532 Ardcn Court. Barbara Graham -.'O 
5:;3 H.izel Kirke. Marie Walsh .... •:•» 
530 Dissolving Views. Mrs. Andrew 

Lang 10 

545 Vida's Story. By the author of 

"Guilty Without Crime".. . 10 

546 j\Irs. Keith's Crime. A Novel. . ]'* 
571 Paul Crew's Story. Alice Co- 

myns Carr 10 

575 The Finger of Fate. Captain 

Mavne Reid 20 

581 The "Betrothed. (I Promessi 

Sposi.) AUessandro Manzoni 20 

582 Lucia. Hugh and Another. Mrs. 

J. H. Needell 20 

583 Victory Deane. Cecil Griffith.. 20 

584 Mixed IMotives 10 

599 Lancelot Ward, M.P, George 

Temple 10 

612 My Wife's Niece. By the author 

of " Dr. Edith Romney " 28 

624 Primus in Indis. M. J. Colqu- 

houn 10 

628 Wedded Hands. By tlie author 

of " Mv Lady's Folly " 20 

634 The Unforeseen. Alice O'Han- 

lon 20 

641 The Rabbi's Spell. Stuart C. 

Cumberland 10 

043 The Skeich-Book of Geoffrey 

Cr;iyon, Gent. Washington 

Irving ^.'9 

654 " Us."' An Olii-fashioned Story, 

M r:i. Molesworth 19 

66-i Tlie Bhstery of Allan Grale. 

Is.il ella Fyvie Mayo 20 

CeS Half Way. An Anglo-French 

Ri-uiance ...SO 



THE SEASIDE LniRARY. 



miscellaneous— Continued. 

669 Tlie Philosophy of Whist. 

William Pole 20 

«75 3Ivs. Dymond. Miss 1'hackeray 20 
681 A Siuger's Stoiy. May Laffan. 10 

683 The Bachelor Vicar of New- 

forth. Mrs. J. Harcourf-Roe. 20 

684 Last Days ac Apswich 10 

692 The Mikado, and Other Comic 

Operas. Writren by W. S. 

Gilbert. Composed by Arthur 

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T05 The Woman 1 Loved, and ttie 

Woman Who Loved Me. Isa 

B]ao:den 10 

706 A Crimson Stain. Annie Brad- 

shaw 10 

712 For Maimie's Sake. Grant 

Allen 20 

718 Unfairly Won. Mrs. Power 

O'Donoghue 20 

719 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. 

Lord Byron 10 

733 Mauleverer's Millions. T. We- 
myss Reid 20 

725 My Ten Years' Imprisonment. 

Silvio Pellico 10 

730 The Autobiography of Benja- 
min Franklin 10 

735 Until the Day Breaks. Emily 

Spender — , 20 

738 In the Golden Days. Edna 

Lyall 20 

748 Hurrish : A Study. By the 

Hon. Emilv Lawless 20 

750 An Old Story of My Farming 

Days. Fritz Reutcr. 1st half 20 

?50 An Old Story of Mv Faiming 

Days. Fritz Reutc?r. 2d half 20 

^"52 Jackanapes, and Other Stories. 

Juliana Horatia Ew- ing ... . JO 

J'54 How to be Happy Though Mar- 
ried. By a Graduate in the 
University of Matrimony 20 

755 Mai-gery Daw 20 

766 The Strange Adventures of Cap- 
tain Dangerous. A Narrative 
in Plain English. Attempted 
by George Augustus Sala 20 

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757 Love's Martyr. Laurence Alma 

Tadema , . . . 10 

759 In Shallow Waters. Annie Ar- 

mitt 80 

766 No. XIII; or, The Story of the 
Lost Vestal. Emma Mar- 
shall 10 

770 The Castle of Otranto. Hor- 
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773 The Mark of Cain. Andrew 

Lang 10 

774 The Life and Travels of Jlungo 

Park 10 

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zac 20 

777 The Voyages and Travels of 

of Sir John Mauudeville, Kt., 10 

778 Society's Verdict. By tlie au- 

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786 Ethel Mildniay's Follies. By au- 
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801 She Stoops to Conquer, and 
TheGood-NafuredMan. Oli- 
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803 Major Frank. A. L. G. Bos- 

boom-Toussaint 20 

807 If Love Be Love. D. Cecil Gibbs 20 
«09 Witness M.v Hand. By author 

of " Lady Gwendolen's Tryst " 10 
810 The Secret of Her Life. Ed- 
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816 Rogues and Vagabonds. By 
George R. Sims, author of 

""Ofctler Joe"...., 20 

822 A Passion Flower. A Novel SO 

852 Under Five Lakes. M. Quad.. 20 
879 The Touch.^tone of Peril. A 
Novel of Anglo-Indian Life, 
With Scenes During the Mu- 
tiny. By R. E. Forrest 20 



THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.-Pocket Edition. 



LATEST ISSUES: 



870 
871 
872 
873 

874 

875 

876 
877 
878 



881 



884 
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891 



PRICK. 

Pole on Whist 20 

The Girls of Feversham. By 
Floreuce Marrjac 20 

Petronel. By Florence Marry at 20 

The Poison of Asps. By Flor- 
ence Mairyat , 10 

Out of His Reckoning. By 
Florence Marryat 10 

A Bachelor's Blunder. By W. 
E. Noiris 20 

With Cupid's Eyes. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 

A Harvest of Wild Oats. By 
Florence Marryat 20 

A House Party. By "Ouida" 10 

Lady Valworth's Diamonds. By 
" The Duchess " — 20 

Mignou's Secret. John Strange 
Winter 10 

Facing the Footlights. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 

Little Tu' penny. By S. Baring- 
Gould 10 

The Touchstone of Peril, By 
R. E. Forrest 20 

The Son of His Father. By Mrs. 
Oliphant 20 

Mohawks. By Miss M. E. Brad- 
don 20 

Children of Gibeon. By Walter 
Besant 20 

Once Again. By Mrs. For- 
rester 20 

A Voyage to the Cape. By W. 
Clark Russell. 20 

Les Miserables. Victor Hugo. 
Parti 20 

Les Miserables. Victor Hugo. 
Partn 20 

Les Miserables. Victor Hugo, 
Part HI 20 

Paston Carew, Millionaire and 
Miser. Mrs. E. Lynn Linton. 20 

A Modern Telemachus. By 
Charlotte M. Yonge 20 

Treasure Island. .Robert Louis 
Stevenson 10 

An Inland Voyage. By Robert 
Louis Stevenson 10 

The Mistletoe Bough. Christ- 
mas, 1886. Edited by Miss M. 
E. Braddon 20 

VeraNevill; or, Poor Wisdom's 
Chance. By Mrs. H. Lovett 
Cameron 20 

That Winter Night: or. Love's 
Victory. Robert Buchanan. 10 

Love's Conflict. By Florence 
Marryat. First half 20 



NO. PRICK. 

893 Love's Conflict. By Florence 

Marryat. Second half 20 

894 D o c t o r C u p i d . By Rhoda 

Bi'oughton 20 

895 A Star and a Heart, By Flor- 

ence Marryat 10 

896 The Guilty River. By Wilkie 

Collins 10 

897 Ange. By Florence Marryat... 20 

898 Bulldog and Butterfly, and Julia 

and Her Romeo, by David 
Christie Murray. Romeo and 
Juliet : A Tale of Two Young 
Fools, by William Black 20 

899 A Little Stepson. By Florence 

Marryat 10 

900 By Woman's Wit. By Mrs. Al- 

exander 20 

901 A Luekj^ Disappointment. By 

Florence Marryat 10 

902 A Poor Gentleman. By Mrs, 

Oliphant. First half 20 

902 A Poor Gentleman. By Mrs. 

Ohphant. Second half 20 

903 PhyUida. By Florence Marryat 20 

904 The Holy Rose. By Walter Be- 

sant 10 

905 The Fair-Haired Alda. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

906 The World Went Very Well 

Then. By Walter Besant. , . , 20 

907 The Bright Star of Life. By B. 

L. Far jeon 20 

908 A Willful Young Woman 20 

909 The Nine of Hearts. By B. L. 

Far jeon , . , 20 

910 She: A History of Adventure. 

By H. Rider Haggard 20 

911 Golden Bells: A Peal in Seven 

Changes. By R. E. Francillon 20 
913 Pure Gold. By Mrs. H, Lovett 

Cameron, First half 20 

912 Pure Gold. By Mrs. H. Lovett 

Cameron, Second half 20 

913 The Silent Shore, By John 

BloundelleBurton 20 

914 Joan Wentworth. Bv Katharine 

S. Macquoid " 20 

915 That Other Person. First half 20 
915 That Other Person. Second half 20 

917 The Case of Reuben Malachi. 

By H. Sutherland Edwards.. 10 

918 The Red Band. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey. First half 20 

918 The Red Band. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey. Second half 20 

919 Locksley Hall Sixty Years After, 

etc. By Alfred, Lord Tenny- 
son, P.L., D.C.L 10 



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THE CEL.EBRATEI3 

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